Bluebird
by keeponsmilingg
Summary: It's funny how one moment—one letter—can change your life. Will these two ever get it right?
1. Bluebird

This is just a short introduction to the series known as, _Bluebird_. Chapters get longer as the story progresses! Thanks for reading :)

I don't own Glee. If I did, it would be called The Samcedes Show or White Chocolate Thunder.

**Update 1/27/2012**: This chapter, along with the rest of them, has recently been edited! Hopefully it's easier to read without all of those silly grammatical errors.

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><p>Tears stained my cheeks. I couldn't turn off the faucet; the mist of my eyes dripped on to the paper smearing his words. Reading the letter, I heard his voice—breaking my heart even more.<p>

_Dear Mercedes,_

_As I write this letter, my hands are shaking. I went back and forth a million times, and I just couldn't get myself to put the pen and paper away. I love you. I love you so much that it scares me. They say when you love someone, you have to let them go—or something like that. You and I both knew from the beginning that we wouldn't be together forever. Let's just face it, you deserve someone better than me._

_I'll never forget all that I have learned from you. You taught me a lot about myself. I don't think that I'll ever find someone like you again. You were the best I ever had. You have to believe that, okay? You have to believe that no matter how far and wide that I search, no one will ever measure up to you. But I can't be in this relationship anymore knowing that you can do 100 percent better than me._

_I don't want to stop writing this letter, because when I get to the end of it, I know that it'll be over between us. I don't want it to be over, I really don't want it to be, but it's just the way it should be. I thought I could deal with the bullshit. I thought I could deal with people saying I wasn't good enough for you. At first I was in denial, but I realized that I was wrong. Your parents, the kids at school…they saw what I refused to see. You're going to do amazing things in this world. And even though no one will believe me, I get to say that you were my first love—my first _real_ love. I'm never gonna let you go Mercedes Jones. One day you're going to forget about me, but I'm never going to forget about you. I wrote this letter because I wasn't man enough to look you in the eye and tell you that I'm sorry that I'm not enough. Please don't waste any tears on me. You're too pretty to let tears fall from those eyes._

_I'm always going to love you. I'd be lucky if you could say the same for me. One day you'll really see that this is for the best. I promise you._

_Love Always,_

_Sam_

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><p>"This is Sam, you know what to do, and uh…if you don't, just leave me a message."<p>

"Yea, Sam, this is Mercedes. I know you're not answering me for a reason. I got your letter. I didn't want to read it because I already knew what it was going to say. I saw it coming, I did. I-I, I wish that it didn't have to end this way, Sam. You know, you talk about how other people think you're not good enough. And you talk about how you don't think you're good enough, but _damn_ it! What about me? What about what I think of you? I guess that doesn't really matter anymore. I just want to say one last thing…. Sam you were wrong—."

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><p>My mom continued to knock on my door and I continued to ignore her.<p>

"Mercedes, open this door right now!"

I was a complete mess and hadn't left my room for days. I rolled my eyes as she started to jingle her set of keys. It was funny, really. I had a lock on my door, but what was the point? My mother had her own key!

"Mercedes Jones! Get out of that bed, and get into the shower. You're not staying in that room again today…do you understand me?" I pretended that I couldn't hear her and pulled the covers over my head.

"Did you not hear me? I said get up, now!" She pulled the covers off of me and groaned. I had pissed my mom off many times in my life, but I was beginning to think she'd reached her breaking point with me.

"I did not raise you to act like this; I did not. Now I know you're sad. Baby, I know. Sam doesn't know what he's missing." I scoffed aloud. Was she serious?

"Please Mom—_please_ do not pull the 'concerned' mother act."

She had a hard time believing that I was talking back to her in that way. In that moment, I didn't care. Our relationship was nowhere near perfect. I wasn't one of those kids who thought that being disrespectful to their parents was _okay_, but as she pretended to care about me and my feelings, she pushed me over the edge.

"Excuse me?"

"Oh don't act like you aren't happy about this, mother!" Something in me snapped. She'd never cared about Sam or our relationship. I was surprised

"You don't think I know that this is partially your fault? You practically pushed Sam away from me. It was you, and it was Dad, and it was everyone in this _damn_ family."

I was shaking uncontrollably. To be fair, they'd never done anything shady, but they weren't accepting either. Sam couldn't stand to be around my parents. He felt like he was _always_ on watch when they were around. Sam walked on eggshells around them, and he became a stranger.

"Don't talk to me like that! Your father and I just want the best for you," she tried reaching out to me, but I pushed her away.

"Sam _was_ the best for me. I can't help it that he's white, Mom. I can't help it that his family is going through what they're going through. I can't help it that I love him!"

"You're going to _college_ in a few months. You have your entire life ahead of you to find someone! You're going to do things with your life, and Sam… Mercedes he doesn't have anything going for him. You don't know what love is, Mercedes. You _don't_!"

"Oh and you do, Mom? Daddy has _never_ looked at you the way Sam looks at me, and he never will! He never will because he doesn't love you!"

Before I could process what I was saying, she had slapped me. She'd put her all into that smack. I'd crossed a dangerous line, and I knew the damage was irrevocable. The ice in my tone overpowered the vibe in the room—everything was cold.

"When I leave this house in August, don't expect me to come back." She showed no interest in my dramatic statement and slammed the door as she made her exit. It took me a few minutes to stop crying, but once I was calm, I forced myself to get out of the bed. I could have stayed in the shower for hours, but nothing washed the pain away. Being alone was the norm for me—it made me independent and strong. What it _didn't_ do was make me feel any less shitty.

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><p>They didn't see me, but I heard every word of their conversation. On the last day of school, Mike had met Sam at his locker after the final bell had rung.<p>

"Mike, I just don't know how long I can do this with her," Sam said. He looked tired—he was always tired.

"What are you going to do about it? I mean, Mercedes is probably the best girl in the school, after Tina that is. But she understands what you're going through," Mike told him. Sam banged his fist against his locker, wincing in pain.

"That's just _it_, Mike! She _is_ the best girl, but she deserves better than me. I'm never going to make it out of Lima. When she goes off to school in the fall, she's going to be surrounded by all of these great guys. If I don't let her go now, she's always going to resent me." Mike shook his head in disappointment. Hearing this broke my heart, and I'm sure it broke his too.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, but I really think you're going about this the wrong way. If Mercedes was the one to care about stupid stuff like money or the way people thought of you, she would have never given you the time of day. We're graduating soon—don't put a damper on the celebration! You two are meant to be. Just think about that man," he said walking away from him.

I'd never get the chance to tell him that what he was saying was far from the truth. With all of the hype of graduation, there wasn't a moment where we could breathe. That conversation between him and I never came. He'd never know just _how_ much he meant to me. Because of him, I would never be the same again. I never thought I was capable of feeling so many emotions at once. I was sad because Sam didn't know how great he was. I was pissed that my parents didn't accept him. I was embarrassed because I'd let myself fall hard without a safety net.

Eventually, I got tired of riding that tilt-a-whirl of emotions. I was _extremely_ tired of feeling sorry for myself. Sam was right about one thing: _But they say when you love someone; you have to let them go—or something like that._

I would never stop loving him, but I had to let him go—or something like that.


	2. Better That We Break

**Thanks for your reviews so far! :)**

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><p><em>"Sam?"<em>

_Mercedes and I were sitting in the grass near our favorite park. Stacey and Stevie were at day care—we had freedom to do whatever. She looked absolutely gorgeous in her sundress. The sun beamed down on her flawless skin. If there weren't kids roaming the playground, and if I knew she wouldn't slaughter me for PDA, I'd never stop trailing kisses down her neck. _

"_Yea?" _

_Her brown eyes were gorgeous as she stared up into mine. That alone made me hug her tighter in my arms._

"_I'm glad we're back together." It was simple, but the emotion behind it had me showing all of my teeth._

_It was a nice summer day. The sun was proudly shining, but there was this cool breeze in the air. It was perfection._

She_ was perfection. I didn't want days like this to end. Unfortunately, our time together was getting shorter._

_"Me too baby, me too."_

_I was so lucky that she took me back. After all of the begging, pleading, and making myself look like a complete idiot, she finally gave in. Mercedes was leaving for college in a few weeks, and surprisingly it was bringing us closer together._

_"I was thinking about something…" she said looking up at me as her voice trailed. _

_She seemed anxious, and she was playing with the grass—something she only did when she was nervous. I thought it was cute, but clearly something was on her mind._

_"What's going on in that pretty little head of yours?" I asked. Her smile never reached her eyes_

_I wasn't sure that I wanted to know. Ever since we had gotten back together, she'd been distant. I tried to ignore it; I didn't want to ruin what we had built again._

_"Sam, I love you," Mercedes said softly as she looked at me seriously. Her eyes were fierce and strong—it sparked a fire inside of me, but I was still scared._

_"I love you, too. What's going on?" Taking her hands in mine, I prayed to God that this wasn't the end. I couldn't handle another break-up. Every moment I spent without her during that time was horrid. I couldn't sleep or eat—Avatar had rarely been taken out of its case. Sometimes, I'd get physically sick, which had my mother scolding me to take better care of myself. I didn't think I could ever feel so bad about myself. I could only hope she wasn't rethinking her decision._

_"Well, I _am_ leaving for college soon. I know we've been trying to ignore it ever since getting back together, but it's real. We can't ignore it anymore."_

_She sounded so sure of herself. That's what I loved about her, but I was going into panic mode. I knew she had already made up her mind. Well Sam Evans, you gave it a shot._

_"But you know what else is real? _Us_." Her grip around my hands tightened. "This is real Sam, and I can't ignore how I feel about you anymore." _

_She kissed me slowly, but passionately. I was enjoying the kiss, but I was clueless as to where this was going._

_"Sorry, but I'm a little lost here," I said breaking the kiss. She looked a little shy, embarrassed even. It was silent for a while until she took a deep breath._

_"Sam, I've been thinking about this ever since we got back together…before I leave for school…"_

_I was trying to be patient with her, but the tension was killing me. I guess she could read my mind, so she continued on._

_"I used to be ashamed of it, but when you're around me, I have no self-control." Her hesitance was unbearable. I took her hands and looked her in the eyes. _

_"Whatever it is that's on your mind, just say it. I can handle it." I was lying through my damn teeth. I was simply on edge, and if she was hinting towards what I thought she was…_

_"Sam, I want… I want to have sex with you before I leave. I've been thinking about it, and I know we're ready…" she said something else, but I didn't hear a thing. _

_I want to have sex with you. _

_The seven words were on replay. It had to have been a dream, so many things were going through my mind, but I had to control myself. I couldn't have her thinking her boyfriend was a sex-crazed idiot. When I looked back at her, she was avoiding my gaze. I had to act fast before she stormed away. _

_"It was a stupid idea, forget about it." She mumbled something about how she was stupid to think I wanted to have sex with someone like her. That snapped me back to reality._

_"Mercedes, oh Mercedes, no no no! Come here," I wrapped my arms around her, "Listen to me. I don't want you to ever think that about yourself again. You, are the most…amazing woman. I want to…I want to with you so bad. I really don't think you know how much," I was grinning hoping she would crack a smile._

_"Ah, there's the smile I love. " I paused to search her soft brown eyes. "Mercedes, I don't want you thinking you need to have sex with me to keep me around. I don't need that from you. I want to be with you-I need to be," I kissed her for reassurance._

_"I'm glad to hear you say that Sam, but like I said, I'm ready for this," she said getting up and reaching out her hand to me._

_"Where are we going? We just got here!" Her smile proved that she had other things on her mind. _

_"Well, my parents are out of town this weekend for a conference. The house is empty…" Her voice was suggestive and I'd surely lost my mind._

_"Mercedes?"_

_"Sam… "_

"Sam! Samuel Bernard! Wake up now!"

Fuck.

I opened my eyes, and it took me awhile to focus. I then realized that I was not outside on a nice summer day. In fact, it was raining outside. I was not with Mercedes. I wasn't her boyfriend. I wasn't okay—nothing was okay.

"What time is it, Mom?" I had no idea what time it was _or_ what day it was. I just knew that I was miserable.

"It's time for you to get ready for work. You need to start getting better sleep at night, Sam. I know things have been rough on you, but I don't like how this is taking a toll on your health."

It was the same speech she had given me every day since the break-up. I couldn't look her in the eyes, because if I did, I was going to cry. I wasn't about to cry in front of my mother. Her and my father already had enough to worry about.

"I know you don't want to hear this, but it _will_ get better in time. It will. Now, I'm going to take the bus today. How about I let you use the car today, and then you can pick up Stacey and Stevie from camp?"

She threw me the keys with a concerned look on her face. I appreciated my mom so much. Even in the state that we were in, she'd always put our problems before hers.

"Sure, thanks Mom." I gave her a weak smile. I hadn't told her the real reason why I broke up with Mercedes. In fact, she thought it was mutual. I just didn't have the heart to tell her that I was a punk.

I was a punk, and I was a loser, and I would never be able to treat Mercedes like the Queen that she was.

"And _remember_ Sam, I love you. You'll get through this."

If only it was true. I didn't think I'd be "get through this" any time soon.

I listened to her voicemail repeatedly. There was no code to crack the mystery. _Sam, you were wrong_. What was I wrong about? I took hours out of my day analyzing the message. I could never come to a reasonable conclusion.

One day, all of the wondering had me emotionally spent. I'd finally built up the courage to delete the voicemail. Everything had been said and done.

I kept looking at myself in the small mirror. It was one of the gifts she had given me for my birthday. She had said something about me needing a mirror to tame my golden locks. The guy she gave the mirror to? I wasn't him anymore. I kept staring at my reflection, but I couldn't recognize myself. Who was I without her? Who was I without Mercedes Jones?

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><p>"Sam, we need to talk."<p>

I looked up to see Kurt Hummel standing behind the counter. He didn't look too happy to see me.

"I'm kind of at work. Uh, do you think it could wait?" I asked apprehensively. Kurt might have been smaller than me, and he might have liked show tunes a little too much, but he was a force to be reckoned with.

"It's raining, and no one is ordering pizza. I _think_ you can spare a few minutes." He definitely was not playing games. We sat in silence for a few moments before he let me have it.

"You're an idiot. I hope that you know that. I mean a _letter_? Sam, really? I thought you had better class than that…" I'd almost forgotten how blunt he was, yet he was quick to remind me.

"You don't have to tell me that, I know." I hung my head low. I knew that Kurt would take Mercedes' side over mine, but it still hurt that he was bringing me down so harshly.

"Look, she didn't tell me the full story, but all I know is that you need to fix it… _now_."

"Kurt, there's no fixing this. Mercedes… she's going to be better off without me."

"Do you really think that, Sam?" Even if it wasn't true, I'd definitely convinced myself that it was.

"How is she doing anyway?"

I wondered if she missed me. I wondered if she had moved on already.

"Well you would know that if you didn't break up with her, wouldn't you?" His tone was harsh and I felt anger bubbling inside of me.

Kurt was my friend, but I was fed up with him at this point. I stood up and started to walk away, but then turned back to look at him.

"I know you're her best friend, but I thought you were my friend too. I didn't agree to talk to you just so you could make me feel worse than I already do."

"Sit down! This conversation isn't over, Sam!" I rolled my eyes, but did what he told anyway.

"I'm _not_ going to take it easy on you. Now yes, you made a mistake, but there's still time to fix this. You just can't screw it up." He looked at me, and he finally as if he wanted to be civil with me.

"Well, do you think you could help me?"

I wasn't sure what I could do or say to make it right again, but it was worth a shot.

"I'm disappointed, Blondie. Sam, have you _not_ learned anything from Glee club? Listen, Rachel's throwing a party to celebrate the end of summer and to see everyone off for school. Mercedes will be there, and I _think_ you know what you need to do."

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><p>Rachel's house was packed; it was as if she'd invited our entire senior class, and then some. I was surprised that people had shown up—Berry wasn't known to be Ms. Congeniality, after all. Even though it was pretty crowded, I could spot her out easily.<p>

Mercedes was sitting alone. She looked guarded, as if she was trying to put up a front. It could have been my imagination, but the smile she wore as she watched our friends sing and dance around was sad. My nerves hit me again, and I needed air.

When I went outside, I quickly noticed that I was not alone. Her familiar blonde hair gave it away. I decided to go back inside quietly, but I stepped on a branch, which brought Quinn out of her thoughts.

"Hey Sam, I didn't think you'd be here." Quinn smiled politely at me and her smile was very inviting.

I stumbled to find words to greet her. Ever since Quinn and I broke up the year prior, we didn't have much to say to one another. Now that we were here alone together, I was at a loss for words.

"You don't have to be—you don't have to be weird around me you know? Come sit with me."

I was unsure of whether I should have been alone with her, but my legs were moving before I could do anything about it.

"I heard about the break-up, are you doing okay?" I was a little taken aback. I didn't think Quinn cared about the drama anymore, but then again, Lima was a small town. In our group of friends, news traveled fast.

"Do you want the truth, or do you want me to lie to you?" She looked at me, but I couldn't read her expression.

"I understand why you broke up with me, and I _definitely_ understand why you and Santana didn't work out, but I'm puzzled about this one, Sam. After the initial shock, everyone was pretty sure that you two would break the 'Couples Curse' in Glee Club." I laughed dryly to myself.

"You and I both know that not 'everyone' thought that," I said. There was animosity in my voice, but I tried to brush it off.

"Okay, you're not making any sense to me." Quinn stared me down with a focused gaze.

I could have changed the subject. I _was_ tired of explaining it to everyone. No one could truly understand, but it was worth a shot with Quinn. She knew what it felt like to feel undeserving and worthless.

"Fine, do you really want the truth? Quinn, I'm a loser, and don't you dare try to tell me that I'm not, because we all know it's the truth. Mercedes and I were doomed from the start. Her parents have always hated me. They don't think I'm going anywhere and they're right. What could I possibly offer her? Her dreams are bigger than any of us could ever imagine."

The sides of my mouth twitched into a huge smile when I imagined Mercedes singing on this huge stage in front of millions. When I looked up at Quinn, she was smiling too.

"She has this _huge_ life ahead of her, and I was just in the way of all of that. I loved her- I _still _do, but would that really have been enough to keep us together? You have to understand me. Look at you and Finn. No matter how hard you tried to ignore it, it wasn't meant to be for you two. Look how that turned out for _you_."

Word vomit was the only way to describe it. I didn't mean to sound as harsh as I did, but I was breaking down. I knew I had hit a nerve, but surprisingly Quinn was still sitting there and she hadn't slapped me yet.

"Quinn, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that." I felt awful. Here I was taking out my anger on Quinn, and it wasn't her fault at all.

"No Sam, you did. And it's okay, because you're right. But this isn't about me. If you truly feel that way—if you really feel that you and Mercedes aren't meant to be, why are you here?"

I had no idea why I was there anymore. I thought it would have been a good idea to try and get her back with a song, but now that I thought about it, maybe I _was_ making a mistake.

"Listen, don't get up there and sing her a song with words that you don't mean. You're either going to love her, and fight for her, or you need to let her go. I know it's probably more complicated than it sounds, but Mercedes does deserve better. If you're going to sing her a song—if you're going to win her back—think about what it's going to mean. You keep talking about how about how she deserves to be happy, but you deserve to be happy too, Sam. So think about it."

Quinn squeezed my hand and gave me a friendly kiss on the cheek. I let her words sink again as she walked away.

"Quinn," I called her back, "how did you know I was going to sing a song?" Her smile was tiny, but it was there.

"Sam, it's like all of you Glee guys share the same brain, or something. I'd be worried if you didn't have a song planned."

Her soft chuckle put a smile on my face, and suddenly I had a resurgence of confidence. I went back to the party; my decision had been made. As soon as I'd made it inside, Mercedes caught my eye again, and I had to talk to her.

"Mercedes!"

She stopped dead in her tracks, and when she turned around, she was pissed. I almost forgot that we weren't together, and the boyfriend in me panicked.

"What's wrong?" I asked reaching out to her, but her hand was quick on the defense.

"I almost believed you in that letter. I came here tonight hoping to talk to you. I'm so stupid!"

She was trying to get away from me, but I held her in place. I'd expected her to be made at me, but I hadn't foreseen any of this.

"Mercedes, calm down! You're not making any sense at all."

"I saw you out there with Quinn. Why would you lie to? If you still loved her, you should have just told me," she screamed. Tears brimmed her eyes as realization hit me fast.

Thankfully the music was loud, no one was paying attention. Had she really thought that I had left her for Quinn?

"Mercedes, we were just talking out there! Quinn asked me about _you_ and told me how stupid I was for letting you go. I still love _you. _That's what I came here to tell you tonight, I love you!"

The impact of her hand hitting my face almost made me fall back. My cheek was on fire, and people at the party were definitely staring now.

"Stop lying to me Sam! Just stop! You know what, I'm so damn glad you broke up with me when you did. I'm so much better than this."

Chills ran down my spine. She didn't mean those words, she couldn't have. Her words hurt me worse than her slap. I wanted to run after her and hold her in my arms. I wanted to say apologize, beg, and plead. My brain stopped functioning and I watched her walk away from me like a coward. The music stopped—everyone was staring and whispering, but my mind was elsewhere.

_Go after her, idiot._

I stayed where I was standing. It was over now, so I let her go. Why was I kidding myself? I probably hadn't gone about it the right way, but I was right. Maybe we were better off this way.


	3. Everytime You Lie

_Huge shout out to one of my readers, Faeryfreak11, who said in her last review: "You're the one who made me lighten up to Samcedes. I now realize: Samcedes is actually really adorable!" That comment seriously made my life. Thank you again :)_

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><p>I couldn't believe Kurt had dragged me to yet <em>another<em> Rachel Berry "extravaganza." It was extremely packed—wall to wall with people. Half of them were drunk and the other half danced as if they were on the set of a Lil Wayne video. Pretending like I'd miss these people was hard to do. With the exception of my Glee club family, I had zero interest in keeping in touch with our senior class. We' had four years to bond—just because we were on our way to rest of our lives, didn't change the number of slushie facials I'd taken over the course of my high school career. Kurt convinced me to go, and here I was.

He _may_ have mentioned that Sam would be there tonight, which made it easier to get myself dolled up and ready to go.

I was sitting alone, trying to collect my thoughts. The decision to make things work wasn't an easy one, but I couldn't let him go. I wanted to talk to him—needed to. I had to tell him that if he thought he was going to get rid of me this easily, he had another thing coming. I even had an entire speech planned. When I saw him go outside, I figured this was my chance to go for it. There was no turning back now.

As I approached the door, my heart stopped. I had to blink a few times just to make sure I wasn't imagining the sight before me. Their blonde hair was distinct, and I could recognize them anywhere. The two of them were outside, snuggled close. She kissed him on the cheek! I started to feel dizzy as everything began to piece together. Realization hit me hard—an unsettling revelation that I was surprised I didn't see coming.

He had left me for Quinn.

Feeling like the biggest idiot, I needed to make my escape. Here I'd thought he _cared_. The intense looks, the way my heart fluttered when he first said I love you, and that smile that was reserved for the ones that he loved—was it all in my head? I was about to go and make a fool out of myself and tell him that I loved him. I had to get out of there before I lost my cool. I was making a B line for the door when I heard him call out my name.

"Mercedes!" I stopped dead in my tracks. I contemplated just running away, but I was instantly filled with rage. I turned around and looked at him. Oh, if looks could kill.

"What's wrong?" he asked me. He tried to reach his hand to me, but I smacked it away. I didn't want him to touch me ever again.

"I almost believed you in that letter. I came here tonight hoping to talk to you—I'm so _stupid_!"

I was desperately trying to keep the tears from coming down. There was no way he was going to see me cry. I would never be that vulnerable with him ever again. I tried to get away, but he just held me in place, which heightened my ugly mood.

"Mercedes, calm down! You're not making any sense at all."

"I saw you out there with Quinn. Why would you lie? Why would you tell me that you loved me, huh? If you still loved her, you should have just told me," I screamed with everything in me. The music was still loud, so thankfully no one heard us.

"Mercedes, we were just talking! I still love _you_—that's what I came here to tell you tonight. I love _you_!"

As soon as he said it, my hand went across his face. I didn't know what I was doing, but my brain and my heart just weren't on the right page. All I could hear was his lies. He didn't love me, he never did. The music had stopped and everyone was staring. I didn't care anymore.

"Stop lying to me Sam! Just stop! You know what? I'm so damn glad you broke up with me when you did. I'm so much better than this."

I walked away with my head held high. Everyone who watched me probably thought I was strong, independent, and didn't need him. But on the inside, I was breaking down, and I needed to get out of there—_fast_.

When I got outside, I couldn't breathe. My lungs felt as if they'd collapsed. I just wanted to leave, but Kurt was my ride. I turned back to the house, but Kurt and Tina were already on their way out to find me. Kurt looked furious and Tina didn't seem to know what was going on.

"Mercedes, what happened back in there?" Tina asked. I almost didn't hear her because my head was pounding.

"I'll kill Sam. I will hurt him severely, just say the word Mercedes," Kurt threatened.

"No Kurt, that's just not necessary. I'm going to fix this," I said pushing past them.

When I walked back into Rachel's house, I didn't have a concrete plan, but my legs were working by themselves. Everyone was staring at me, but I didn't have a care in the world. I took a drink, and downed the entire glass. I was going to need it to get through the performance I was about to give.

I walked over and took the microphone from Rachel. She was in the middle of singing some love song to Finn, so I'm sure the audience didn't mind. She saw the fury in my eyes and she didn't question my actions.

"Alright everyone, you all know me! I'm Mercedes Jones. Now, you all know that I've been dating Sam Evans for a while now. Well, just a few weeks ago, he broke up with me—_in a letter_."

Everyone in the crowd booed. I spotted Sam in the crowd; he looked like he wanted to die. I might have been taking it a little too far, but he needed to feel how I felt.

"Yea, I know. How pathetic? Tonight, I found out that he just left me for another girl. Classy, I know." Everyone was incredibly drunk, but they cheered me on anyway.

"And you know what else? He tried to tell me that he still loved me! Well guess what, Sam! I'm tired of your lies. I'm not mad though, because in a few days, I'm leaving Lima for good. There's nothing here that I need anymore. You? You're going to be stuck here forever, and you get to watch everyone around you leave. How does that feel?"

He was _beyond_ pissed. His bright red cheeks and sad eyes weren't enough to keep me from going. I could see the disappointed looks from my friends. The moment the words escaped my mouth, I knew the damage was irrevocable. I knew what I was doing was wrong, but I couldn't stop.

"If there was one thing I learned from being in Glee club, it was to sing what you can't say. So listen up Sam, this one's for you." I told Rachel to find the track. I was about to sing my last song to Sam, and I hoped he was listening very clearly.

"_You told me on a Sunday, that it wasn't gonna work. I tried to cry myself to sleep, because it was supposed to hurt. We sat next to the fire, as the flame was burning out. I knew what you were thinking, before you'd say it aloud_."

I kept trying to convince myself that I saw this coming as I sang the song, but nothing matched up. I I'd overheard the conversation with him and Mike and I read the letter a million times. I would have never expected Quinn to be a part of the equation, and I guess that's what made me so angry. What made me even angrier was that he made me feel this bad about myself. I should have never put my guard down and let him in.

"_Don't say you're sorry, because I'm not even breaking. You're not worth the time that is taking! I knew better than to let you break my heart. This soul you'll never see again won't be showing scars. You still love her; I can see it in your eyes. The truth is all that I can hear, every time you lie_."

I looked right at him as I sang. It was like I was trying to convince myself that I was doing the right thing as I sang the condescending lyrics. I was trying to convince myself that I knew better—but I didn't. Whenever we were alone—whenever he was looking me in the eyes, I felt safe. I believed every word he told me, but right now, I didn't know what to believe.

"_I woke up the next morning, with a smile on my face. And a long list of gentlemen, happy to take your place. Less trashier, much classier, then who you prove to be. How long's it gonna take before, you see that she's no me_!"

That last verse received a few cat calls from the crowd. Of course it wasn't true. I cried for days after the break-up and I would most definitely cry tonight.

I would never understand why I was doing this. Why was I trying to put up this front? Of course I cared—I was hurting. I didn't know if I actually believed he went back to her. I just knew anger felt better than being sad and depressed. If this was going to make everything better, then I had to convince myself that it was true.

"_At night, awake. I will be sleeping till morning breaks. That's the price you pay, for your, mistakes. Goodbye to dreaming_."

I was lying to myself and everyone in that room. I went about this the wrong way. It wasn't just the song, but it was what I said—_how_ I said it. I basically told him that he wasn't going to do anything with his life. I once told him that I believed in him, and that he could do anything. . I had lost myself and hurt one of the few people on this Earth that had accepted me for me.

_I_ was the liar now. There was no turning back now, the deed had been done. Sam would never forgive me for this.

"_So, don't say you're sorry, because I'm not gonna listen. I knew better than to let you break my heart! This soul you'll never see again, won't be showing scars. You still love her; I can see it in your truth is all that I can hear, every time you lie. Every time you lie, oh! The truth is all that I can hear, every time you lie_."

When the song was over, the people in Rachel's house were going insane. My eyes were stuck on Sam. He looked like he thought about approaching me, but he just ran outside of the house. All of a sudden, like a ton of bricks, everything hit me at once. What I had just done was completely unnecessary and I felt idiotic. Even if I was pissed about Sam, this was the worst thing I could have ever done. If he never talked to me again, I wouldn't blame him.

Being angry or upset was no excuse. What I thought was a good idea had crashed and burned right there in front of me. I hadn't been drunk, but I'd still be making my walk of shame that night.


	4. Superman

Thanks to Faeryfreak11 again for the song suggestion! I've found that there are many meanings to this song, but the way I interpreted it works with Sam's situation.

**Disclaimer: No ownership here.**

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><p>Ever since Rachel's party, I hadn't gotten much sleep. After watching Mercedes' performance, at first I was pissed. Then I was sick to my stomach. I got angry again, and then sad. Finally, I felt nothing. I was tired of feeling. Because no matter what I was feeling, I still ended up being a loser in the end. And quite frankly, I was <em>really<em> tired of feeling like a loser.

At some point in my never ending thoughts, I don't know when, but at some point I came to a revelation. A light came on—something clicked in my brain. A lot of people always thought of me as "just a pretty face"—that I was dumb. After everyone found out about me, I was "Sam, the one with the same pretty face, just struggling to get by." I _wasn't_ stupid. I saw the way people looked at me. I knew that everyone pitied me. I was tired of it—tired of everyone defining who _I_ was. At some point in my thoughts, and I don't know exactly when, I decided that my _situation_ was not going to _define_ who I was anymore. The only problem was that I didn't know exactly who I was. And in order to find out, I needed to change things in my life. I wasn't sure how these changes were going to make my life any different, but I knew I had to start with one.

Walking up to Mercedes' door that evening had my emotions conflicted. It took a serious pep talk to remove myself from the safety of my Dad's truck. As I looked at her home, I thought about how I would get angry with people that took their homes for granted. I would get angry that people complained about stupid things like getting grounded. _Oh what a sad life you have. You're grounded; you have to stay in a __**house**__, that's equipped with a TV, a full refrigerator, __**central air**__. Let me take the time out to pity you. Not. _

But that was when I feeling sorry myself. That's when I didn't believe in myself. That's when I let everyone else decide who I was going to be. And now, I was beyond that. It was time to live my life with my head held high. It was finally time to see what I was worth.

I only had to knock a few times before she answered the door. My heart was beating fast, but I knew I couldn't run away this time.

"Sam," she began to say. She started to cry and wrapped her arms around me. My body tensed involuntarily. I didn't know why, but I didn't feel the same comfort with her as times before. It was the night before Mercedes had to leave for college. Tomorrow, she was going to be starting a new life, and so was I.

Looking up at me, more tears formed around her chocolate brown eyes.

"I didn't think you'd make it. Thanks for coming. I have a lot I need to say." As I stepped away from her, usually I would have missed her warmth. This time, it felt like a weight lifted off of my shoulders.

"Honestly, I didn't come to listen what you have to say. You've had your time to talk. I want—no, _need_ to tell you some things before you leave." I wasn't trying to sound harsh if I did. She looked slightly hurt, but she still gave me a weak smile. Mercedes took my hand and began to lead my inside her home.

"No, I think we should…let's just talk outside, okay?" There was no way in hell that I could be around her parents right now. Their fake smiles and their disapproving eyes—I didn't want to ruin the progress I'd already made.

I hated that things were so awkward. I used to be able to sit in silence with Mercedes and be comfortable with not saying anything. Our fingers would intertwine and her head lay upon my shoulders—we'd be at peace. In this awkward moment, it was like we were meeting for the first time, and we couldn't find the right words.

Her neighborhood was so quiet at night. The streetlights had come on, and all of the kids had to go inside from playing. Everything was still with the exception of critters hopping around the grass. It was such a beautiful summer night. It was unfortunate because I was probably about to ruin the harmony of the day.

"Before you say anything Sam, for what it's worth, I'm _extremely_ sorry. What I said at Rachel's? It was awful and uncalled for. I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me one day, but I'd understand if you didn't," she said breaking our silence. She was so sincere that I felt guilty. I was still going to go through with this. Bracing myself, I took a deep breath and began to let my words flow.

"I love you, Mercedes. It's not a lie. It never was a lie—It will _never_ be a lie. I love you, and I'm not afraid to say it." When I stared into her eyes, I wished so much that we could just forget everything. That we could be together again, but nothing's that easy.

"I forgive you, I do. But Mercedes, something changed in me when you said what you said. I may forgive you, but I don't think I'm ever going to forget what you said. You were the only one that didn't think I was a loser. You once made me feel like I was worth something, and after that, I couldn't help but think that everything we had was a lie."

She started to cry even more, and I had to look up to try and prevent myself from crying. If I lost it, there was no way I was going to be able to walk away.

"Me and you, I'm never going to forget us, ever. But we have to start over on our own paths. I never really knew who I was. I always let other people create the guy who was Sam Evans. But now, I can't do that anymore. I have to find out who I am. I'm better than what people think of me." She nodded her head and wiped her tears away. Finally, I took her hands.

"I have to start my own path," I paused. "Unfortunately, I have to start that path without you, Mercedes." There had been a lightening bug that was floating around us ever since we sat down. In its own way, it was like the little guy was trying to protect us. Right about now, his glow was starting to flicker.

"Tomorrow is a new start for you. You're going to go to college. You'll study amazing things and meet great people. You're going to find a guy that's going to give you everything that you deserve."

"Sam, please-"

"And you're going to graduate. You'll start this fabulous career. You'll start a new family, and you'll be an amazing mother. Your daughter, she'll have your eyes and your attitude. Your son, he'll be talented, but shy. And your husband, as much as I hate the guy already, he'll take care of you." I was smiling thinking of all this. When I looked at her, she didn't look so amused.

"Why do you do that? Why do you talk like you can't do all of those things? Why can't that be us?" She was hysterical and a pang of guilt hit my chest.

"Mercedes, I love you. I just don't know if I'm _in love_ with you anymore. I don't know anything anymore. But I need to figure it out, okay? Tomorrow, I'm going to start my new life too, but it has to be without you." She scoffed and scooted away from me. The lightening bug was no longer glowing anymore.

"It's not going to be easy. When you come home on breaks, it's going to be weird. But it'll get better one day. I know it will. But you have to understand me. We have to let it go."

"Why are you doing this?" She wouldn't look at me anymore. I knew she had things she wanted to say, but I wouldn't be able to listen to them.

"Because I know it's the right thing to do. Listen, I have one thing to ask of you." Mercedes turned to me. Both of our hearts were broken and I knew it was going to take a lot to mend them.

"Don't let this put a hold on the best that you can be. I meant what I said, I don't want you to waste any more tears on me, okay?"

I took one last look at Mercedes and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. We tearfully said our goodbyes. Before, I thought I'd feel empty, but I was slowly starting to piece myself back together. After I left her house, I didn't know what was in store for me. I guess it was up to me now to find out.

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><p><strong>Don't let your situation define you. Be who you want to be. *hugs you all*<strong>

**Reviews are wonderful. Thanks for reading!**


	5. Words I Couldn't Say

Shout out to one of my readers, WinnieMoo, your review gave me the inspiration for a line in this chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

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><p>It was the day before I was leaving for school. Everything in my room was packed; everything was starting to feel real. I had said my emotional goodbyes to almost everyone. The only one left was Sam, and I was for sure he wasn't going to forgive me after my performance at Rachel's. I didn't know what I could say that would make him see that I was truly sorry. I didn't want to leave things like this before I left.<p>

_There was a soft knock on my door, and my mother poked her head in. Ever since our fight, we hadn't been on the best speaking terms._

"_Mercedes, you have a visitor," she said. As she stepped aside, I was very surprised to see Quinn standing there. After my mother left us alone, there was this heavy tension in the air. This wasn't the first time that I had accused Quinn of something ridiculous, and I was running out of ways to say sorry._

"_Quinn, I didn't think you'd come and say goodbye to me." I had no idea what to say to her. This was awkward and uncomfortable. She walked over and sat on my bed, crossing her arms over her chest._

"_I didn't come here to say goodbye to you, I came here to let you know that you made a huge mistake."_

"_I know Quinn—you don't have to tell me…"_

"_Really? I think I do Mercedes! It's _one_ thing for you to think that I'd do that to you after all we've been through, but thinking Sam left you for me? You didn't even ask him, you just assumed. I really thought you were better than that. And what you said about him? Mercedes, who was that up there? You know how Sam feels about not being able to get out of Lima at the same time as the rest of us." _

_She was shaking her head at me. On a regular day, I would have snapped Quinn in half if she had talked to me this way, but I deserved it today._

"_Well, what was I supposed to think? He had just broken up with me, in a letter. And I know I made a mistake, I shouldn't have said those things. But I was angry, and confused."_

"_Alright Mercedes, let's get to the point here. I know you. I know that accusing Sam of being interested in me is easier that admitting how you really feel. I know it's easier to feel sorry for yourself and to sit around being angry. But that isn't the _real_ you. You're Mercedes Jones, and you don't do things the easy way. I know you still love him, so go and fight for him," she said getting up and looking me in the eyes._

"_He's never going to forgive me. I said some pretty messed up things."_

"_You still have a chance, call him! Beg him to come and see you before you leave—you have to do something. You can't leave things like this. Otherwise, all of your life you're going to wonder 'what if?' And then you're going to settle for a guy that won't love you as much. You'll settle for a life that you think is the best, but in reality, you and Sam are meant to be together. Sure things might not get fixed before you leave, but it's a start." Her smile was reassuring and I knew I had to try before it was too late. _

_After Quinn left, I immediately called Sam. He wouldn't answer my calls or my texts, but I could only hope that he would come through. I had no idea what I would say or do if he did decide to take a chance on me._

_Around 9:30, I was beginning to give up hope. I needed to get to bed early since we had such an early drive in the morning. I was just about to get in bed when the doorbell rang. My heart was beating fast. I didn't want to get my hopes up, but who else would be visiting at this time of night?_

_I rushed downstairs before my parents could answer the door. When I looked out of the peep hole, I almost squealed. Sam was standing on my front porch. I opened the door, and I became overwhelmed with emotion._

"_I didn't think you'd make it. Thanks for coming. I have a lot I need to say." I took Sam's hand and tried to lead him inside, but he didn't budge. He said he'd rather talk outside. I didn't like the look on his face, and I was beginning to wonder if I should have called him at all._

_We sat in silence for a while, so I decided to break the ice. This had been more awkward than my talk with Quinn._

"_Before you say anything Sam, for what it's worth, I'm extremely sorry. What I said at Rachel's, it was awful. I hope you have it in your heart to forgive me one day, but I'd understand if you didn't," I apologized. I knew it wouldn't be that easy; If I was Sam, I wouldn't be too quick to forgive me either._

"_I love you, Mercedes. It's not a lie. It never was a lie. It will never be a lie. I love you, and I'm not afraid to say it." I was happy that he still loved me. I began to think that this wouldn't be too difficult after all. But as he continued to talk, my heart broke even more._

"_Me and you, I'm never going to forget us, ever. But we have to start on our own paths. I never really knew who I was. I always let other people create the guy who was Sam Evans. But now, I can't do that anymore. I have to find out who I am. I'm better than what people think of me."_

_He was ending things for good. We weren't just breaking up for good, but we were __**broken**__. He just kept talking about how he needed to find his own way. I wanted to tell him all of these things. I wanted to tell him that I was in love with him, but he just didn't feel the same way anymore. I could have had the power to fix it all, but I just let him go._

_After he left, I decided to take his words to heart. Tomorrow would be a new start for the both of us. Tomorrow, Mercedes Jones had to forget about Sam Evans._

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><p>My home looked like a bridal shop had eaten a bad lunch and exploded in my living room. Everything from wedding gowns, cake samples, dozens of flower bouquets, to maps of venues and a huge list of wedding singers. And even though I couldn't see my floor, I was extremely happy. After many years of dreaming of my perfect wedding, it was finally happening. Mercedes Jones was getting married.<p>

"Mercedes, you have to see these samples, they're amazing," my best friend Kurt said as he placed a stack of invitations down in front of me. I was sitting down at my dining room table, which was also a mess. Kurt was partially responsible for this madness. The moment I told him that I was engaged, he immediately claimed his position of wedding planner and man of honor.

"I can't handle anymore samples, Kurt! I'm all "wedding'd" out. Why don't we just chill out for one day?" I loved Kurt, I really did. But my television hadn't left the TLC channel in months. Kurt forced me to watch wedding specials with him day after day, and I was sure that I had been to every bridal shop in the Midwest.

"There _is_ no rest when it comes to planning a wedding, Mercedes. I must say, I'm a little disappointed in you. I was hoping you'd be more of a 'Bridezilla.'" He smiled sitting down next to me.

"You are something else. Have you talked to Tina today?"

"I'm right here!" Tina was walking into my front door cautiously stepping over the mess. It wasn't a surprise that she had coffee in one hand and her cellphone in the other, attached to her ear. Tina was just as excited that I was getting married. She'd become Kurt's personal assistant to all things wedding. I insisted that we could just easily hire people for this, but they wouldn't take no as an answer.

"Tina, you look flustered as usual. What's wrong now? Don't tell me that the church wasn't available on the 23rd…" Kurt said taking her coffee. I just laughed. Of course he was only worried about the wedding details, and not Tina's well-being.

"No, it's worse. Mercedes, you'd better sit down," she said looking at me apprehensively.

"Tina, I'm already sitting down. What's wrong?"

When she answered me, the invitations went everywhere. Kurt's mouth flew open and I was trying not to choke on the water I was previously drinking.

"I just got off the phone with Mike. Apparently _Sam Evans_ is back in town."


	6. Who Knew?

I started driving in the middle of the night and I didn't have a certain destination in my mind. It just sort of…happened. If someone told me I'd return here one day, I'd never believe them. Being back in Ohio was strange, if I was being honest. My real home was in Tennessee, but I would always have a special connection to this place.

After everyone left for college, I decided that I wasn't going to let my insecurities hold me back anymore. I had to figure out life for myself. I worked, I worked, and I _worked_. Whether it was delivering pizzas or just odd jobs here and there, I made sure that I kept a job. Working kept my mind off of reality—it kept my mind off of life without _her_. "Starting my own path" proved to be more difficult than I had originally planned.

So after working my ass off for a year, I decided to move back home. I _needed_ to get out of town as soon as I possibly could. Lima was a _constant_ reminder of us. Our last conversation was on her front porch that one night. It had almost been a year since I had heard from Mercedes and it was driving me insane. I knew that in order for me to get a fresh start, I needed a change of scenery.

I found a small apartment back in Wentworth, a town only a few miles outside of Nashville. The apartment was nothing compared to the house that we previously owned, but it was still home to me. Slowly but surely, I was rebuilding my life. I started taking classes at Wentworth's local community college, reunited with old friends—I even started dating off and on.

For almost seven years, I was living this life that I thought I wanted. When my friends started inviting me to their weddings or sent me photos of their newborns, the hole inside of me that I had desperately tried to fill was re-opening itself. It was as everyone was around me was truly happy, and I was only pretending to be. Anyone on the outside would say that I had a pretty decent life, but something was missing. Some_one_ was missing, and I wondered if she even remembered my name. If there was one thing that I _did_ know, it was that hiding out in Tennessee wouldn't give me an answer.

Lima still looked the same. With the exception of a few developments, the small town wasn't any different from when I packed my things and left. As I drove around town, the memories and feelings that pushed me away were pulling me back in faster than I could handle. I passed McKinley High first. _McKinley_ had been the place where we first met. I thought about Glee club—about how the New Directions brought us together. How it changed _both_ of our lives. Memories of walking down the hall together with our hands laced and feeling on top of the world flooded my mind. It almost brought tears to my eyes.

Then, I passed Breadstix. It brought me back to memories of Prom. I remembered how beautiful she looked that night. How that dressed hugged her curves in all of the right places—that smile on her face when I asked her to dance. I didn't know at the time that I would soon become the luckiest, no _happiest_ guy in the world.

And finally, I passed the motel. I slowed down and turned into the small parking lot. The amount of emotion that powered through my body was too much. I hadn't shed a tear in years and now I was choking back sobs alone in my car. The memories and the pain of losing everything were still fresh. I'd never forget the sound of my father's voice or the look on his face when we ended up here. Or how he'd keep it together during the day, but let his cries out at night when he thought we were all asleep.

And during our time of struggle, I tried to be as strong as my dad, but I had my moments. And when I did have those moments, she was always there. She was there for the best and worst moments of my life. She was the only one that truly saw me—she was my better half. Sure I'd left to find myself, and to live a life without her. I needed to see what was out there for me, but it only brought me back here. I found that _yes_, I could be independent, and that I could overcome the way people viewed me. My family's situation didn't have to define who I was going to be in life. But I couldn't _truly_ live without Mercedes Jones by my side.

Pulling myself together, I continued to drive. I was exhausted because I had been driving for hours without any sleep. I was thankful when I found the Lima Bean right where I left it many years ago.

I sat down at one of the tables after receiving my order and picked up a newspaper. I tried to focus on the words, but I just couldn't shake the memories from my head. I didn't know how many times we'd come here to go on dates, to talk, or to just _look_ at each other. Her face was perfectly sketched in my brain. I'd never forget her elegance and grace. I suddenly yearned for her, I needed to hold her and tell her how much I still cared for her. I needed to tell her that I never forgot about her. My precious thoughts were interrupted when someone clapped their hand on my back.

"Look what the wind blew in!" I almost choked on my coffee when I turned to see Mike Chang standing before me. I'm sure I was grinning like an idiot. The worst thing about moving back home was leaving everything in Lima behind. The friendships and relationships I made here were irreplaceable—especially my friendship with Mike. The girls always said we had a "bromance" or whatever the hell that meant. It was tough to keep in touch while I was away, but I still considered him as my closest friend.

Not caring what anyone thought, I tackled him with a strong hug and lifted him off of the ground. Mike looked the same, but I could tell he'd been to the gym a few times.

"Damn son, are you trying to get big like me?" He rolled his eyes jokingly at that. I always made fun of him because he was scrawnier than me. But when it came to dancing, he could whoop my ass, there was no doubt about it.

"Oh please, you _wish_ you looked like this."

"Hey, all of this is natural, baby! What is it, uh, Gym Tan Laundry?"

"I think you're lacking on the 'tan' part of the equation."

We laughed again and shared another hug. I didn't think I'd run into anyone this quickly. I felt bad for not keeping up with my old friends—what was everyone else doing with their lives?

"So what brings you back? How long has it been man...?" Mike said taking the seat in front of me. It was refreshing to see him again.

"Too long, I can tell you that," I replied. Looking around the shop, it hadn't changed that much, but there was aura about that place that I couldn't grasp. It was the same, but it wasn't at the same time.

"Seriously, I haven't seen you in _years,_ man. I was beginning to think you fell into a black hole. Did you forget how to use a phone or…" Mike was smiling but I could tell he meant what he said.

"I know, I know. I guess I just kind of got caught up in being away and all, but I'm here now?" I said hopefully he'd forgive me for my lack of communication. Yes I'd been gone trying to find what was good for me, but that didn't give me the right to cut everyone off.

"I guess I can understand that. So why _are_ you here now?" I thought about it, and I didn't really know. I thought I did, but honestly, what _was_ I doing here? What was I thinking just showing up back here? I didn't even know where she was.

"Well…I…can't a guy just visit? And hey, wait a minute, why are _you_ here? Aren't you supposed to be somewhere in Los Angeles, Twinkle Toes?"

Maybe a year ago I'd received a letter from Mike saying he'd been offered a position to teach dance out in California. Because of the move, he and Tina broke things off. Maybe Los Angeles didn't have what Wentworth didn't have for me.

Mike suddenly lost the smile that had been on his face and he wasn't looking at me anymore. Apparently his coffee was now more interesting than my sudden return to Lima. I raised my eyebrow in confusion.

"Ok, what just happened there? You look like you've just seen Finn trying to dance or something."

He sighed heavily, taking something out of his back pocket and slid it over the table. As I examined the envelope, my heart almost stopped. The return address was to a _Miss Mercedes Jones._ Not sure of what to say or do, I just looked at Mike with my mouth agape. I couldn't form any words that made sense. Mike was the only one that had known why I left. And as embarrassing as it was, he was the only one that had seen me shed tears over her.

"Before you get any thoughts in your head, you should read that first," he said taking another sip from his cup.

I could read Mike like a book, and whatever was inside wasn't a good thing. I opened it with caution. The envelope contained what looked like an invitation. The card was covered in lace fabric with a ribbon holding it together. When I untied it, a ton of glitter fell from the inside. _**What the fuck? **_I looked up at Mike and he just nodded for me to continue on.

I thought I was shocked when I saw Mercedes' name on the envelope before. Right now, I was sure I could have gone into cardiac arrest.

"_The princess has finally found her prince._

_You are cordially invited to the engagement party of Mercedes Jones and Gregory Burns."_

This wasn't real—it couldn't have been. Mercedes was engaged? Who the hell was Gregory Burns?

"Look man, whatever you do, don't rip up the invitation. Don't tell anyone, but I kind of like the glitter." If he thought humor would make this moment any less awkward, he was so wrong.

"What the _hell_? I can't…but…_this_. What?" I was at a loss for words. I didn't think she'd stay single forever, but I didn't think she'd _actually_ marry someone. The words kept playing over and over in my mind.

"I was going to tell you, but…well, I didn't. I didn't think you'd be too happy about it." I gave him an incredulous look as I slid the envelope back to him. _Unbelievable_, I thought.

"Well you were right about that one…wait, what the hell? You knew she was dating some douche bag? What didn't you say anything?" I banged my fists on the table causing some people to look over at us. After shooting them an apologetic look he just shook his head at me.

"You should really calm down." I was still upset. In fact, I was livid.

"Why does he have to be a douche bag, Sam?"

"_Because_, any guy that's with her that _isn't_ me is a douche bag. Point blank." I chugged the rest of my drink and crushed the cup. It was his turn to give me a look.

"Alright, let me break this down for you, Evans. Now, you're my boy. I'm always going to support you. I'm on your side, I am, but _you_ were the one who broke up with Mercedes. You went off and frolicked around Tennessee for a few years to 'find yourself' or some shit. Cool, whatever. But you were also the one who told her she was going to have this life. You basically told her to find a new guy and to forget about you. You messed this one up, bro. You can't be that upset about it. Did you really think she was going to be waiting for you whenever you decided to return with open arms?"

I knew Mike was just trying to be a good friend, but his words smacked me in the face with the truth. Who the hell was _I_ to just come back? It was me who had caused all of this in the first place. A part of me did think I could just waltz back into town and fix everything, but that was the idiot in me. The rational guy in me knew that showing up out of the blue was a risk. It was _that_ guy who knew everyone had moved on, and I was stuck in my own past. Had I ever made any progress, or was it all in my mind? Had I lost what I was looking for this entire time?

"Well…no. _Damn it_, I don't know anything as of now. I don't know why I'm here. I just woke up one day and knew that I was living a lie and I was tired of it. I mean, if someone said six years ago that she'd be out of my life, I'd punch their faces in. Who knew all of this was going to happen?"

It was a serious question. How did we end up here? Why did I just give up on everything that I'd worked so hard to get? It wasn't easy to win her heart and I blew it.

"I know, and it sucks. We're all different from who we once were. When I got back to Lima, I couldn't stop thinking about all of the memories we made here. I guess it's just a matter of accepting the present and moving on." Mike was right about being different. He might have looked the same on the outside, but I knew on the inside he was a different person.

We sat in silence for a while. After a few moments, I started to smile. Maybe it was in that moment—maybe I knew it all along, who knew?

"So, what are you going to do?" His face reflected concern. He knew I had something on my mind, I'm just not sure if he wanted to know exactly what it was.

"I'm going to that engagement party," I said nodding my head. He laughed out loud and just looked at me as if I'd lost it.

"To do _what,_ exactly?"

"I have to stop her from marrying _Le Douche_ and to get her back, of course." He was laughing so hard that he was turning red. I was a little offended that he thought that it had been a joke. He stopped cold when he saw that I was serious.

"Sam…_no_. C'mon, did you not hear anything that I said? She's getting _married_."

"Yes, she's _getting_ married. Or at least she thinks she is. Look, she isn't married yet, and I'm going to stop her before she is." I smiled even more as the plans starting to form in my mind.

"Are you an idiot? Your parents dropped you when you were born didn't they?"

I just laughed as I got up to throw my cup away and sat back down. Yes, I was an idiot—insane, even. I wasn't going to just sit back and let her go again. Not this time.

"Oh wise friend, I'm getting her back—whatever it takes."

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><p>:)<p> 


	7. First Love

"I just got off the phone with Mike. Apparently _Sam Evans_ is back in town."

Tina's mouth was a truck and her words were the wheels running me over continuously. No, it wasn't real—this wasn't happening to me. I refused to believe this.

"Wait, how does Mike know Sam's back?" Kurt inquired with his eyes wide. Tina slid down in the chair next to me and sighed greatly.

"That's because Mike is back in town too," she replied looking away. This comment brought me out of my daze momentarily. I wasn't the only with a ghost from the past that just randomly popped up. Tina's eyes were a mix of sadness and confusion. My heart ached for her, but at the same time I was freaking out. I was hoping that this entire moment was only a part of my insane imagination. But no matter how hard I pinched myself, I couldn't wake up from this horrible dream.

"Why would he randomly show up, though?" Kurt was actually pondering this, what the hell? Did he not hear her when she said that Sam Evans was back?

"I may or may not have sent him an invitation…" Tina was now more interested in cleaning up the mess of papers instead of this conversation.

"Tina, what did I tell you? Inviting him back here is not going to help the healing process! Don't you agree, Mercedes?"

He was really serious right now. Why was I the only one going insane? My brain was on complete overdrive.

"_Can you just shut up about Mike? Sam is back! We now have a crisis on our hands."_ I gritted through my teeth. My two oldest friends looked at me silently. Kurt began to smile and I just rolled my eyes furiously.

"Now _that's_ the Bridezilla I'm talking about! I knew you had it in you," he said looking at me as if he was a proud parent. I could have strangled him, but I loved him too much to do so.

"Can we just _rewind?_ Tina, tell me everything Mike said!" I said frantically. I didn't even know why I was reacting this way. What did it matter that he was back anyway…

"Well, he had called to let me know that he was back in town. He saw Sam when he stopped by the Lima Bean for some coffee. He didn't say much more than that they were both back. Oh and I'm _fine_, thank you so much for asking," she said grabbing her purse and headed towards the door.

I cursed under my breath. I was too busy trying to wrap my head around everything to even think about how Tina was feeling. Mike left to focus on his career and their relationship just couldn't handle the distance. I knew she still cared about him and that his unexpected appearance was shaking up her world as well.

"Tina, wait!" I called after her. She turned to me abruptly with tears streaming from her eyes. I immediately snapped back to reality and looked at her with loving eyes.

"Come here," I said pulling her into a tight hug. It was something that we both needed in that moment. I wiped her tears away as we loosened our embrace. She gave me a watery smile.

"I'm _so_ sorry. I know you're freaking out too. I was only thinking about myself. Forgive me? I'm really not the Bridezilla that Kurt wants me to be," I returned the smile. She slid down the wall next to my door and played with her keys and I joined her on the floor. Kurt appeared carrying three glasses of wine.

"Forgive me too? I come bearing alcohol," he sat down with us handing each of us a glass. "Sorry I've been too blinded by the wedding madness to see that my two friends just had their lives change at the drop of a hat. How are you two feeling?" He asked taking a sip from his glass.

I honestly didn't know how I was feeling. I'd never thought of the possibility of Sam making his return. We'd both moved on with our lives. I didn't even know who he was anymore.

"When I sent that invitation, I didn't think he would show up. It was a mindless act, honestly." Tina had already downed what was in her glass. I just continued to stare into my glass. What did his return mean?

"And what about you Mercy," Kurt asked me. My head shot up and I was speechless. What about me?

"_Well_, whatever you're thinking, you don't have much time to think about it. We need to get ready," he got up holding his hand out to me.

"Um…" I had been swerving in and out of my thoughts that I almost didn't hear what he was saying. What exactly was I getting ready for? And what day was it?

Putting his hand on his hip, he turned his head to the side. "Oh no, do _not_ tell me this made you forget! You have an engagement party to host in 3 hours for about 100 of both you and Greg's family members and friends. You know, Greg, your fiancé, the guy you're marrying in about 2 months?"

"Oh, damn. That's today?" Kurt looked like was going to flip his shit. Before he could say anything else, Tina stopped him.

"Kurt, just go get things ready. I'll take care of her." He kept his mouth shut and stomped away fiercely. He was mumbling something about how his hard work was never recognized and this only made Tina laugh. She turned to me and looked into my eyes for an extremely long time.

"Mercedes, you aren't…this isn't _changing_ things for you, is it? You are secure in your relationship with Greg, right?"

Of course I was secure in my relationship! Greg loved me and I loved him. Just because Sam decided that it was time for him to pay a visit to Lima, it meant nothing to me. This changed nothing.

I put on my brave face and got myself together. "Of _course_ I am T—I'm just shocked is all. This came out of nowhere. You can't blame me for feeling a little blindsided." She nodded at this.

"And you? Are you going to be okay with seeing Mike today?" She kind of leaned to the side and looked up at the ceiling. Maybe she was looking for an answer in the sky.

"Who knows, MJ…I guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" She pulled me up and we hugged again before she pulled away, she whispered something in my ear that gave me chills.

"You deserve to be happy, so don't let Kurt mold that for you. Do what you have to do, but I won't judge you for it."

God, I was so blessed to have a friend like her. During college, she had answered the phone every time I called her when I was crying over him. She'd text me positive sayings and uplifting quotes. She'd even drive up to see me on the weekends when I really needed her. She got me through everything and she helped me move on. I was terrified to think that everything she'd help me once build could possibly fall down again _very_ soon.

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><p>Hours later, the engagement party was in full swing. A ton of people had crowded our home and I was running around like a headless chicken trying to keep everyone entertained. After countless interactions of shining my white teeth and showing off "the rock" as Kurt referred to it, I was exhausted. Who knew being a wife-to-be would be this tiring?<p>

I was hiding from everyone in our kitchen when a pair of strong arms slid around my waist. I turned to see Greg standing there grinning at me.

"Hey beautiful," he said showering me in short kisses. I only giggled at his antics, which only provoked him more. It was crazy to think that I'd be getting married soon.

We'd met in Statistics during our sophomore year in college. I tried desperately to avoid taking the class; I absolutely hated math and my grades reflected this. After two failed tests, my professor practically begged for me to get a tutor. When he introduced me to Gregory Burns, I thought he was kidding. He was suggesting that I get tutoring help from Gregory Burns?

The Sherwood University basketball team was number one in our division, and our leading scorer just so happened to be Gregory Burns. And apparently that leading scorer just so happened to be an insane math nerd that helped me pass.

One session with Greg, and my hate for math had decreased and my attraction towards him soared. He was such a genuine guy. Greg didn't look at me like I was just another notch in his belt—he looked at me like I was something special.

It started off slow and sweet, and then I found myself having feelings for him. I was so apprehensive because I hadn't felt this way about someone ever since…_Sam_. But, he took his time with me and didn't rush me to say anything that I wasn't ready for.

During our senior year, Greg got seriously injured during practice. This put a serious hold on his future with basketball and a serious strain on our relationship. There had been so many rumors going around that he was cheating on me or that I was going to break up with him because his injuries were preventing me from being the 'gold-digger' that I wanted to be. Everything was so hectic that I began to lose faith in our relationship.

But Greg didn't care about the rumors—he kept me grounded. He reminded me every day that no matter what happened with his career that he would always love me. And before I knew it, he was proposing to me. I was going to be the future Mrs. Gregory Burns. I had finally found the right one.

Looking up at him, I smiled. He towered over me with his 6'5" frame. His caramel skin, his hazel eyes, his bright smile—everything about Greg was charming.

"What are doing hiding in here? Uncle Earl hasn't scared you off has he?" He asked grabbing my hand. I laughed at that. His Uncle Earl was a _major_ creep. At every one of Greg's family events, that man never failed to try and feel me up. I shuddered just thinking about it. I shook my head and scrunched up my nose.

"Nope, and I'm very thankful for that," I said pecking him on the cheek.

"Well, I _can't_ say I blame him. I am a pretty lucky man."

"Oh really?"

"Yes really," he lowered his voice, "and if there weren't so many people lingering around, I'd take you right here on the counter." My eyes almost popped out of their sockets. I playfully hit him and buried my face in his chest. I took in his scent and he smelled delicious.

"You need to watch what you're saying. My dad would _kill_ you if he heard you say that," I said as I was running my finger across his chest. He let go of me as he face hardened.

"How's your dad doing anyway?" A pang of sadness hit me. I was trying not to think about that among other things. After the announcement of our engagement, we soon found out that my dad had been hiding that he was sick. My parents could pay for the best doctors in the world and not one of them could tell us what was wrong with him. He was always tired and his appetite wasn't the same anymore. He'd forget certain things, but the doctors assured that it wasn't Alzheimer's.

We decided to push up the wedding as early as we could and moved to Lima after graduation. I tried not to worry, but I didn't know what I would do if my daddy couldn't walk me down the aisle.

"Hey, stop that right now. I didn't mean to upset you. He's going to be okay." Greg and my dad had developed a close bond over the years and this was hurting him just as much as it was hurting me.

The doorbell rang, causing both of us to jump.

"I guess that's our cue then?" He smiled tucking a piece of hair behind my hair. I gave him a small kiss before leaving him to go answer the door. It was time to stop hiding and go out and face the music again. I ran to the door and when I opened it, I smiled.

"Mike! It's so good to see you! Thanks so much for coming."

"I'm apologizing to you in advance," he said handing me a gift and pecking me on the cheek. I was so confused, but then he stepped aside and I had almost dropped the box.

Sam and I stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. I had pushed everything about this afternoon away so I could enjoy the party. But now, Sam was standing at my door and we were stared the other down. I couldn't tear myself away from the doorway.

He cleared his throat. "Mercedes…can I come in?"

There he was, my first love, standing here at the entrance of my home, on the evening of my engagement party to someone that _wasn't_ him.

He was probably calling my name to try and gain my attention, but I just kept staring at Sam. I had no idea what to do and seeing his face brought back so many unwanted emotions. I was not ready to deal with those emotions and I was not ready to deal with Sam Evans, who just so happened to be standing at my front door.

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><p><strong>Thanks for Reading! I love all of my readers and you inspire me to continue writing. Thank you! <strong>


	8. Broken

Disclaimer: I do not own Glee.

* * *

><p>I had finally convinced Mike to take me to the engagement party. After all, I had no idea where she lived. As we were getting closer, I started to second guess everything. <em><strong>Sam, you imbecile, what are you doing? <strong>_My stomach started to hurt and my palms were extremely sweaty.

"You've got to turn around. I can't do this, man." We were at a red light. He looked over at me and studied me for a minute. He shot me an angry look and pulled over to the side of the road. Mike cut off of his engine and turned to me.

"What's your problem now? This is the second time we've stopped. We're not turning around. You started this, and now you have to finish," he said going to turn his keys again but I stopped him.

"No, wait. What if…what if this is a huge mistake? I have no idea what I'm getting myself into. What if she's pissed or doesn't want to see me? I'm not ready to do this. I'm not ready to face her." My face was buried in my hands. Mike just groaned and laughed dryly.

"I knew this was going to happen. Listen, you've got me into this, and I'm not letting you back down. If you still love her, you'll take the risk by telling her that you're the biggest idiot that I've ever met and that you still love her. So what if she's pissed? She should be, but you never know. That's what taking risks is all about. You never know what could happen, but if you don't try, you'll always live your life thinking 'What if?'", he said giving me a warm smile. I rolled my eyes at him and scoffed.

"What fortune cookie did you get that from?" He hit me on the shoulder and grinned.

"How about the fortune cookie in my brain? Look, I'm freaking out about Tina too. When I called her, she didn't seem that excited to hear from me. But, I can't hide from her forever. The only difference between you and I? I actually told Tina where I was going. You, on the other hand, just took off to Tennessee without giving Mercedes an address."

I winced. He really knew how to keep me from wanting to do this. What exactly was I going to do? My plan to get her back had seemed a little bit out of this world, especially since it was at her own engagement party.

"You know what, Mike? Just drive."

As we pulled up to Mercedes' home, my mouth dropped. We couldn't have been at the right place. Mercedes' family was wealthy, but this home was ridiculous. This guy had to have been loaded too.

Mike saw my face and he just laughed.

"Yes, we're at the right place. You seriously don't know who Gregory Burns is? His dad, _Joseph_ Burns, you know, one of the best point guards to have ever played for the Chicago Bulls?"

"You've got to be kidding me. I'm going up against the son of an All-Star Athlete?"

"_Greg_ also happens to be an athlete. Well, he was until he got injured during his senior year."

I almost choked Mike, but he was too good of a friend for me to be angry at him. But if I knew him well enough, he enjoyed watching me squirm. Grabbing the gift from the back, Mike got out of the car and I was still sitting there.

"Stay in the car if you want, but it's blazing out here. And I'm taking the keys so you can't roll the windows down," he said before shutting the door. I made a mental note to beat his scrawny ass later.

We approached the door and Mike rang the bell. My heart was beating a mile a minute. I considered running away but then all of my thoughts vanished as the door swung open. Because I was hiding behind Mike, I could only hear her voice—that angelic voice. My stomach was engrossed with butterflies. It might have been the heat, but I could have fainted. As he stepped inside, she saw me standing there. Our eyes locked. It was tense. She looked as if she'd seen a _ghost_.

Staring at her, I was trying to take everything in. She looked absolutely stunning—_breathtaking_. If it was possible, she'd only aged with beauty. As cliché as it sounded, it was true. Seeing her made me hate this Greg guy so much more.

We continued to stare, which only increased the level of awkwardness. I cleared my throat noticing how dry it'd become.

"Mercedes…can I come in?" She still didn't budge. It was like she was frozen. I didn't know what to do. Mike, who was probably somewhere trying to find Tina, wasn't there to help me.

Just when I thought the situation couldn't get any worse, a booming voice approached us.

"Mercedes, babe, who's at the door?"

When I saw him, those butterflies turned into knots. I thought I was pretty tall, but his frame was intimidating. Everything about _Greg_ made me sick. His ridiculous good looks alone made me want to hide in a closet and cry. The way he looked at her, the way he slipped his arm around her waist—for God's sake, the way he smiled when he saw me! My biggest issue was that he seemed incredibly nice and I was mentally kicking myself in the balls.

"Hi, I'm Greg! You must be a friend of Mercedes?" He extended his hand out to me. Damn, his grip was flashed another million dollar smile at me. Double damn, his teeth were perfect.I was certain her dad gave him discounts. He never gave me a discount, but then again, he wasn't that fond of me.

"Uh, yea…hey man, my name is Sam Evans. It's nice to meet you," I said, voice trembling and all. Why the hell was I so nervous?

If I wasn't mistaken, when I said my name, something in Greg changed. But it was only momentarily. Maybe it was just my eyes playing tricks on me, but he definitely clenched his jaw. Had Mercedes told him about us—about me? I looked over to her, and she was still staring at me. _Maybe I'm having another Sci-fi dream and Mercedes is just cursed. Or, maybe I'm an idiot, _I thought_._

"It's nice to meet you. We're glad you could make it, right baby?" Greg tightened his grip around her waist. She finally tore her eyes from mine and looked up at him. Looking at them together was like being in an atrocious nightmare.

Mercedes remained silent and just smiled at him. When she looked back to me, her expression had changed. Before, her face was blank and I couldn't figure out what she was thinking. This time, it was clear that she was hurt, uncomfortable, and confused all at once. Someway, I had to get out of there, but Greg didn't make it easy for me to escape.

"Well Sam, it's hot out there. Come in and enjoy some refreshments," he said gesturing his head towards the inside. Even though Mercedes was now giving me a look of death, I couldn't say no. I walked inside and Greg closed the door behind us.

She whispered something in his ear before disappearing down a hall in her home. Greg and I were left alone. The thickness of the air was unbearable. My plan was to find Mike and run. The longer I stayed, the more bizarre I felt for thinking this would be a good idea.

"Alright, well the friends and family are in the living room," he said gesturing towards a huge room filled with people.

"And then if you want to eat, there's food in our dining area. Uh, so yea. Holler if you need us," he said patting me on the back. Now that Mercedes was gone, I could tell Greg was very uneasy. It was definite that he knew about our past. And honestly, I didn't know how that made him feel about me. I was just glad he hadn't decked me in the jaw.

As I entered their living room, I felt so small. Heads turned, people whispered, the judging stares. Did everyone who I was? I scanned the room and my heart started to beat faster as I saw her parents. It was clear that her mother's thoughts hadn't changed of me. I tried to run from the memories, but they clouded my brain.

"_Sam, thank you for joining us," Mercedes' mother said smiling at me. It was obvious that she was forcing the smile, but I gave it to her for trying. Her parents had invited me over for dinner, but Mercedes hadn't come down stairs yet._

"_Thank you for having me Mr. and Mrs. Jones. I will admit that I was surprised when I got your call," I said telling the truth. I never thought I'd see the day when they'd finally accept our relationship, but it seemed like they were finally coming around._

_There was an awkward silence as I pushed my salad around. Whenever I was around them, I felt I had to be someone who they wanted me to be. Even though they already placed me a certain category, I still felt the need to impress them. I couldn't understand how a girl who was so loving and understanding could have parents that were so…unaccepting._

"_So, when will Mercedes be joining us?" I needed her to be there with me. I couldn't handle being alone with them any longer. I was sweating bullets and I could only hope that my anxiety didn't show._

_Mr. Jones shot his wife a look, and she just rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry Sam! I completely forgot to mention that Mercedes won't be with us today. She's out with cousins that are visiting from Maryland. This dinner is just for you. My husband and I need to have a talk with you." _

_My brow crinkled—I hadn't remembered anything about cousins. There wasn't time to contemplate that fact. Mrs. Jones' expression terrified me more than her words. Something in me knew what they needed to talk to me about, but I didn't want to believe it. I sat up straighter, adjusting my tie. I had never adopted a concrete poker face, so they probably knew that I was nervous. My appetite had suddenly vanished and I just wanted to make a break for it. I thought, maybe if I pretended that I was sick, they'd let me go._

"_Sam, correct me if I'm wrong, but you and my daughter seem to be pretty serious?" Mr. Jones asked me. Surprisingly, he was the nicer of the two, but he still scared the crap out of me. I nodded my head slowly, afraid of saying the wrong thing._

"_Well, you two need to become un-serious, if you can understand what I'm saying." Her mother's tone was ice cold. I knew she didn't like me, but if I heard her correctly, she was suggesting that I break up with Mercedes._

"_C-come again?" My face was probably similar of a deer's caught in the headlights._

"_What, my wife is trying to say is that-"_

"_Oh, I meant what I said, Michael," she said cutting him off and then returning her gaze to me. She had the same chocolate eyes as Mercedes, but I just didn't see the same warmth in them._

"_I don't know what you think is going to happen between the two of you, but it's not going to last. You aren't good enough for her." Her voice was beginning to rise. I felt like I'd been shot 20 times in the heart. I'd never felt so humiliated or ashamed to be Sam Evans. I was fighting hard to not let my tears fall. How pathetic would it have been to cry in front of my girlfriend's parents?_

"_With all due respect ma'am, I love your daughter. I love her so much that it hurts. I know that our relationship may seem unusual to some people. And I know that I don't have the money right now to give her anything that she deserves, but I can give her my heart. Please, understand me."_

_I didn't know where my random act of courage was coming from, but I meant every word that came out of my mouth. I wanted them to see, so badly, that I loved her._

"_Unfortunately son, love might not be all that can save your relationship. Mercedes will be away at college in the fall. What are you going to do while she's away?" Mr. Jones looked at me very seriously. In that moment, it was the first time that I had truly thought about that question._

_When I didn't answer, Mrs. Jones started again. "You're going to have to face the truth. Your future with my daughter is limited. I think that you should save Mercedes and yourself a ton of trouble by just letting her go."_

_My head hung low. Her condescending words were so hurtful. But what hurt the most was that everything she said was true. I was playing myself by thinking our relationship would last._

"_You're a nice young man, but you're just not the right one for Mercedes. You can understand that can't you?"_

_If I didn't excuse myself as soon as I did, I would have gotten sick on their dining room table. I ran to my truck and slammed the door as I climbed in. Banging my fists on the steering wheel, the tears were burning my eyes. I wasn't ready to let her go yet, but everything was pulling me towards that direction._

_Making up my mind, I opened the car pocket and pulled out a pen and paper. I would regret doing this later, but writing a letter was the only way I could get through this without losing my sanity. I would never be able to look into her eyes and say goodbye to her, not ever._

I couldn't believe I'd let them win. I couldn't believe that it was actually over between us. Jesus, I was at her _engagement party_.

Saving me from my misery, I heard a cheerful voice call my name. I turned to see three familiar figures approaching me and relief washed over me. Finn Hudson and Noah Puckerman tackled me as Mike trailed behind them. A smile was replaced on my face.

"Dude! Look who it is! Where the hell have you been? I can't believe Mercedes actually invited you," Finn exclaimed. Mike coughed behind them. Finn realizing his mistake, turned bright red. I couldn't blame him for being oblivious though.

Puck shook his head and punched me in the arm lightly. "It's good to see you, man. Planning to stay in town for more than a second? We need to seriously catch up." I smiled, biting my lip. It took everything in me to not laugh. Was Puck actually being…nice?

"I'm not sure yet man, but it's really good to see all of you," I replied looking at my friends. They had both aged slightly, but I could still see their immature nature waiting to explode.

"Well c'mon, the rest of the gang is in the dining area. The food is so good bro," Finn smiled at me. I began to follow them when I heard a small voice call us back.

"_Actually_ guys, I need Sam to follow me."

I turned to see Tina looking up at me. I smiled at her and wrapped her into a friendly hug. Given the circumstances, I wasn't sure if Tina and I were even friends anymore, but it was still good to see her. Thankfully, she returned the hug and gave me a faint smile. As she pulled away, she caught a glimpse of Mike, and I felt her tense up.

I couldn't handle anymore awkward situations, so I reminded her why she had approached me.

"So! You said I needed to follow you?" She nodded and took my hand. I found myself being led down many a hallway. Their house was a maze. I was sure that if Tina wasn't with me I would've gotten myself lost. We stopped at a door and Tina let go of my arm and turned to me abruptly.

"Mercedes wants to talk to you," she simply stated. I had to have heard her incorrectly. Earlier, she couldn't say one word to me, now she wanted to talk? I didn't like where this was going at all.

I hadn't moved out of my spot, so she repeated herself. "I said Mercedes wants to talk to you. She's in this room. Good luck." She began to walk away from me.

"Wait…um."

She turned back around and sighed. "I'm not sure about what, but I'm sure it has something to do with your return. It _has_ been almost 6 years," she said bitterly. Her heels clicked as she walked away again.

Feeling dizzy and nauseous, I wanted to take this entire day back. I desperately wished that I was back in Tennessee. I hesitated for a few moments. My hand was trembling as it hovered over the doorknob. I had no idea what could be behind this door.

I turned the knob slowly and pushed through the door. On the other side of the door, a large room was revealed. It looked like some sort of personal office. There was a fancy desk equipped with a desktop computer to my right. To my left, a wall of bookcases stood tall. I looked forward and spotted Mercedes facing the window. Her arms seemed to be crossed over her chest. It was silent and _very_ cold in the room. Uncertain if she knew of my presence, I stood there awkwardly.

"When I heard that you were back, I honestly didn't know how to feel, Sam." When she spoke, it startled me. She had yet to turn around and face me and I was glad. I didn't feel capable of staring into her eyes again.

"I keep trying to tell myself that none of this is real, but then when I turn around, I know I'm going to see your face. And then it'll confirm that I'm not going crazy, that you're actually here, and that none of this is a figment of my imagination," she said. Her voice was monotone—like she wasn't feeling anything at all.

Mercedes finally turned around, and there was no escaping her wrath. She looked _furious. _Her eyes were rimmed with angry tears. My heart sank into my stomach. For the fifth time that day, I wondered what the hell I was doing here. It was funny that I had planned so many things to say, but now I found myself speechless.

"Just answer me this, _what_ are you doing here…" she said in an angry whisper. She wanted to know the one thing that I didn't know at the time.

I looked away from her—my vision blurred from unwanted tears. Everything about this day was entirely too much. _She's getting married; just go home, _my thoughts taunted me_._

"What, you can't even look at me? You show up at my house _unannounced_ after 6 years and you can't even look me in the eye and tell me why you're here?" Her yelling caused me to flinch. I couldn't blame her for one second. I deserved to feel as low as I did.

"Still got nothin' to say, huh? Well then, I guess I'll go first," she gestured for me to take a seat. I followed her order. She was already on edge and I didn't need to do anything that would upset her even more.

"I don't know what possessed you to just come back, but what made you think I wanted to see you? What in your right mind told you that this was even _remotely _okay, Sam?" She threw her hands up in frustration at me. It was the way she said my name that made me cringe. It was as if she was scolding a child, or even worse, a small puppy.

"I don't even know where to begin with you. And I still can't believe you haven't said a word to me! Say _something_!"

"Mercedes, I don't know what you want me to say!" I stammered. I couldn't even recognize my own voice it was so hoarse. Silence filled the room again. She backed from me with her hand over her mouth, shaking her head. I got up and walked over to her cautiously. I put my hand out to take her hands but she backed away further. I looked at her, both of us silently crying.

Tearing away from my eyes, she whispered, "Why are you doing this to me?" The pain in her voice killed me inside. There was so much unspoken between the both of us.

"I guess…I guess when I heard…something in me thought I could change your mind. I thought maybe I could convince you that you were making a mistake," I was crying uncontrollably now.

"You don't get to make those decisions anymore! You don't, okay? We're not a part of each other's lives anymore. _You_ made the decision to push me away. I apologized for what I said; I'm not going to pretend like what I did was okay either. But you _left_. I had to find out from everyone else where you'd gone off to! I know that we weren't on the best of terms, but as a _friend_, I thought I deserved to know." I nodded my head remembering that night on her porch.

"I made a mistake, I did. I'll never be able to understand why or how I let you go, but I'm here to tell you that I'm sorry. I still love you, Mercedes. That's the only thing I can think of that can explain why I'm here, I love you. Back then, I didn't know what I was doing. I was upset, hurt, and confused. I wish I could go back." It was an honest statement. I wanted to take her into my arms and just take everything back. I needed a rewind button to keep me from making the biggest mistake of my life. After my declaration, her eyes went wide.

"Our lives are etched in stone. There's no giant eraser that's going to take all of this away. We've both made our mistakes, but there's nothing we can do about it. What's done is done."

She sounded exhausted. Something in her voice told me that she was just tired, tired of everything that she had been feeling. Her words brought me to an unwanted realization. I thought about how I'd probably never hold her again. How I'd never hear her tell me how her day was. I'd never kiss her again or even hear the words _I love you_ come out of her mouth. It was a depressing thought that made my head reel.

"I think that you need to go back to Tennessee. Whatever you're looking for, it's not here anymore. So just move on like the rest of us have," she said wiping away her tears. I literally had to stop myself from reaching out and wiping them away for her. I had to stop and take in everything that just happened. It was over between us, for real. Beforehand, I had created this fantasy in my mind that she'd be forgiving. That she'd run into my arms in slow motion like one of those terribly cheesy movies. We'd talk things over and catch up on each other's lives. I'd apologize so many times but she would continue to tell me that it was okay. I'd ask her to spend the rest of her life with me so that we could grow old together. I'd never let her go again.

But none of that happened. I had my ass handed to me, just like I deserved. I took one last look at her, hoping that my eyes conveyed everything that I had wanted to say. She closed her eyes, rejecting my thoughts. I let out a shaky breath and headed towards the door.

"I really do wish you the best. Greg seems like a great guy."

Those were my last words before I slipped out of the room. I walked furiously and I prayed that I wouldn't get lost trying to find my way out. I walked past the living room. If people were staring, I didn't care. I had to get out of there. I walked outside and the sun stung my eyes. It felt better than what I was dealing with inside. Next to leaving her, this had been one of my biggest regrets. There was nothing that I could do anymore. We were _broken_. As soon as I could, I'd be on my way back to Tennessee leaving everything behind for a second and final time.

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><p><strong>I love all of your reviews, I can't say it enough. <strong>


	9. So Small

_It is taking me forever to write this chapter! My brother is sitting next to me, annoying me, and I can't concentrate. But, I love him anyway. I'm lucky that he accepts me for the nerd that I am and reads my stuff when I ask. This chapter is dedicated to Niki, who has an awesome name even though she thinks it's unoriginal. This chapter is also dedicated to TellNoOne & bana05. Both of them are currently writing amazing Samcedes fanfiction and they inspire me so much! Seriously, their writing brings me to tears. If you haven't read them and want the links, message me! This chapter is based off of Carrie Underwood's So Small. I love her music and can't get enough. [I clearly wrote this message before I was done writing. I'll stop rambling and just let you read. My Author's Notes are becoming longer than the actual chapters.]_

_Disclaimer: Not At All._

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><p>My life was a complete and total mess. My emotions ranged from ridiculously furious, to horribly depressed. The most important feeling, happiness, was missing from that scale. For Christ's sake, I was getting married in a month! I should have been floating on air. Why couldn't I bring myself to get out of my own bed? Why didn't I care about anything wedding related?<p>

It had been a month since "the incident." After he left, I didn't know where he went, and I honestly didn't want to care. My life should have improved exponentially after his departure. The stress of his return should have vanished; the heavy weight should have lifted off of my shoulders. I should have been moving on with my life. I should have been preparing to spend the rest of my life with a man that _loved_ me with all of his heart. Everything that was supposed to be happening, wasn't happening.

I was enjoying the warmth of the covers and the darkness of my room when all of a sudden, my happiness diminished. The sun was now beaming down on my eyes and I was furious. I shot up trying to discover the culprit and groaned when I saw Greg standing there with his infectious grin.

"You have five seconds to close those curtains and you may get a chance to live, Greg!" I was stuck with the decision of either using my pillow to cover my eyes or to throw it at him.

"Rise and shine beautiful, we've got a full day ahead," Greg said coming over to sit next to me on the bed. In his hands were two mugs of what smelled like freshly brewed coffee and he passed one to me. I didn't know what time it was, but I knew it was too early to be that chipper.

I glared at him, but after taking a sip of the delicious brew, I was a little less annoyed. After bending down to kiss me on the cheek, Greg got up and headed over to our closets. Just like me, he was still in his pajamas, and I wanted it to stay that way.

"And what exactly does this day entail?" My tone of voice was definitely bitter. It was a serious question though. Any plans that were made for today had completely left my mind; whatever it was, I still didn't want to get up and face the world.

My ridiculously tall fiancé turned to me with cheerful eyes and shook his head. He had been so patient with me this past month.

"We have our first couple's counseling meeting with the pastor, lunch with my sister, then there's a meeting at the reception venue with Kurt, and finally dinner with our folks. Now let's go baby! We've got to get a move on with all of this planning. We're so behind on everything…and oh my goodness I'm starting to sound like Kurt," he chuckled.

At the mention of family dinners and couple's counseling, I lost the little motivation that I had. There was no way that I wanted to plaster on a fake smile, pretend that I was interested in the wedding, and play the happy couple game all day. I was just so _fed up _with everything. I pulled the covers back over my head. Maybe if he doesn't see me, he'll go away, I thought. I desperately wished that I had a magic genie that would grant me three wishes—no, just one would be enough. My one wish would to just be able to disappear. To disappear and make all of the pain and confusion go away. To be able to have enough motivation to go plan a wedding with my fiancé. To be able to forget about _him_ and just live _my_ life. I'm pretty sure that ended up being more than three wishes, but whatever. Unfortunately, my plan didn't work, and Greg was now pulling my comforter away.

"Oh, Mercedes, c'mon babe! You've got to get up," he said. He looked so frustrated with me, but I knew he would never raise his voice. That was the thing with Greg, he never lost his cool. He was always so damn understanding and happy. I couldn't remember one time in our relationship that he's ever started an argument with me. Even when we had our rocky moments, he always took the high road.

"I don't think I can do this, not today Greg," I said softly not looking at him. It was too early to cry, but I felt the tears brimming. This was almost becoming a daily routine. He'd wake me up to tell me about something wedding related we had planned for the day, and I'd whine until he'd let me sleep a little bit later or just reschedule whatever we had to do. It was mentally and physically draining me. Nights were restless and mornings were hell. I hated what was happening to my sanity. I loved Greg so much, but I just wasn't excited about the wedding anymore. The word 'wedding' even made me sick to my stomach.

Usually, Greg would have caved. He'd leave it alone and mumble something about how tomorrow would be a better day, but today was different. The look in his eyes had changed, in fact, he almost looked sad. It was rare to see Greg without a smile. Now, it was like all of his happiness had taken away from him. It was heartbreaking because deep down, I knew that I was the cause of it.

I sat back up as he climbed into bed with me. It was silent for a while, but I enjoyed the peace. In that tiny moment, I could pretend that my frustration didn't exist. Greg was fiddling with the comforter; it was clear that his thoughts were elsewhere. He glanced over at me with his sad eyes and took a deep breath.

"Please tell me what's wrong, Mercedes. Is everything okay? _Are you okay_?" He fixed his eyes somewhere else, but I felt his emotion. It was so strong and overwhelming. But why did he have to ask me that question? _**Are you okay?**_ I was convinced that it was the worst question of all time. Why is it that every time someone asks you that, you're never okay? Is anyone every _really_ okay? What the hell does okay mean? Whatever it meant, I was so far from it. The levy broke, and tears started to flow. I slowly shook my head, and I didn't know what I was trying to say. Was I answering his question or was I trying to reject these tears?

"I really don't want to lie to you Greg, but I don't want to tell you the truth either," I said no longer trying to stop myself from crying. It had been the most honest statement that came out of my mouth in the past few weeks, maybe even years. I felt him staring at me again, but I refused to look at him. If I did, I wouldn't be able to take it anymore.

Just when I thought he'd given up on trying to see through me, his next words pierced through my heart like sharp glass. The mention of his name felt like I'd just been doused with ice cold water.

"Please, _please_, tell me that this has nothing to do with **Sam**." I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I had to remind myself how to breathe before I passed out. My face had to of been expressing a combination of ridiculous emotions. My heart was in my throat, and everything around me was spinning. This was impossible; he couldn't have just said that.

I was so shocked and appalled that I hadn't noticed that he got up and started pacing around the room. He suddenly stopped short and placed his hand over his mouth. I could see the tears glistening in his eyes.

"Greg, I-" Truthfully, there were no words to express what was going on in my mind. At some point, I knew he was probably wondering why I had been acting this way, but not once did I think he'd say it aloud. And not once did I think he would bring up…Sam.

"Don't! Don't do this to me Mercedes! Don't lie, don't ignore it, just tell me the truth. I can't deal with walking on eggshells around you anymore. I deserve it," he was practically begging me. He was breaking my heart and I was breaking his. His hazel eyes were filled with sorrow, and even though he was so far away I could tell that his entire body was trembling.

I tried so hard, but the words wouldn't come out. There was no escape; no matter how I worded it, anything that I said would end up sounding wrong. It was just better for me to keep my mouth shut, but he was desperate for an answer. And it was an answer that I wasn't ready to give.

He looked up to the ceiling as if he were praying to God that I would give him something to work with. I was still in disbelief that this morning had taken this direction. Why didn't I just agree to the stupid couple's counseling? I wanted to tell myself that all of this could have been prevented, but everything that I had been feeling over the past weeks had been stuffed into a tiny box. And the sides of that box were getting worn and tired, and they were about to burst at any moment.

He finally looked me straight in the eyes. I was for sure that Greg was trying to search for something, anything, in my eyes that could give him a sense of relief. But apparently he didn't find it.

"I…baby just, tell me…damn it Mercedes! I need to know if you're having second thoughts! If you have _one_ regret about this wedding, you need to tell me. Now!"

"Greg, stop it, I love you. Don't say things like that!"

"Then why are you acting this way? Why can't I believe it when you say I love you anymore?"

I knew that I had been acting ridiculous lately, and I knew that I wasn't being the best fiancé in the world. But Greg didn't even believe that I loved him anymore, and it hurt. And not because I was offended, because I wasn't sure either, which scared me the most.

"I don't know, I really don't know. Can we not do this right now? We can go meet the pastor. We can go meet Kurt, but I just cannot do this right now." I was now out of the bed walking towards him, but he turned away.

"Baby, please!"

"Mercedes, just give me an answer."

If he loved me, he'd stand by me. He wouldn't walk away. We'd get through this. We could get through anything if it was meant to be. If I told him how I was feeling, he would hold me and tell me that everything would be okay. Everything was going to work out in the end, right?

I couldn't face him. I turned around and closed my eyes as I spoke. "I need _time_, Greg. All of this wedding business is stressful right now. I'd be lying if I said that Sam's return didn't shake me up, but…but it has nothing to do with us, I think. I mean, I know. Just hear me out!" When I turned back to face him, there was a suitcase on the bed. He was furiously stuffing random clothes into it. I was officially in panic mode.

"What…are you doing?" He stopped what he was doing to look at me. I was almost scared of his expression.

"It's clear that both your heart and mind aren't in this relationship anymore. I've tried; I tried so hard the past few weeks to bring you out of this…whatever you're in! I can't do it anymore Mercedes. I may not be perfect, but I do not deserve this. Whatever you need to figure out, fine, go do that. I'm giving you all the time and space that you need." He zipped up the case and headed towards to the door. I had to blink a few times to bring myself back to reality. This was really happening; he was about to leave me.

"Greg, stop! Put that suitcase away. I'm sorry, just don't do this," I said in what was barely a whisper. Either he didn't hear me, or chose not to, but he kept walking. I lunged myself forward and grabbed his arm back.

"You aren't thinking clearly!" The man that I thought I'd be spending the rest of my life with looked at me with so much disappointment and pain.

"I've thought plenty. And 20 years down the line, I don't want to be in an unhealthy marriage. If we get married next month, you'll spend the rest of your life resenting me. You may not see it now, or you may not ever see it, but something in you isn't with this relationship. Something in you is still attached to _him_. I've tried to ignore it, I really have. I'm so tired. I'm tired of having to smile and pretend that you're still in love with me. But you're so broken. You're so broken that you don't even see what you're doing to yourself. I'd give anything to just be friends with the girl I met years ago."

I was sobbing uncontrollably. I was trying to shake away all of the words that he was saying. I didn't want to believe anything that he was saying. This was a nightmare and I'd be waking up soon. I'd wake up and Greg would come in with his smiling face and a fresh mug of coffee. He'd bend down and kiss me on the cheek and tell me all about what we had to do that day. I wouldn't be annoyed, I'd be happy. I'd be so thankful and gracious that I had such an amazing man in my life. Everything would be just fine if I just woke up.

"I'll figure out something to tell everyone, don't stress about it."

He wasn't doing this. He wasn't breaking off the engagement. He wasn't leaving me, he wasn't. I couldn't let this happen. I couldn't just stand here and let him do this.

He hugged me tight and my body couldn't handle it anymore. I just let everything out in one big cry. I collapsed into arms and repeatedly whispered "I'm sorry."

He placed a kiss on my forehead and walked me over to the bed. "If you could look me in the eyes and tell me that you love me, that you want me to stay, that I'm making a huge mistake, I would in a heartbeat. But…I'm not sure if you can do that. So, I'm going to go away for a little while. I don't know where to, but I have to go. You need to sort things out Mercedes. And I wish that I could say that me being here would help you, but it's only going to hold you back."

I was in a complete daze. As he continued to speak, my stomach churned.

"I love you, Greg." Those were the last words that I said to him. I croaked them out, but he had heard me. He gave me a small smile and squeezed his hands over mine.

"I love you too, so much." He gave me one last hug. He got up and headed towards the door. Before leaving, he turned around to give them room one last look. Greg choked back a sob and left out of the door.

My mind was screaming at me. _**Go after him stupid! Don't just let him leave you; this doesn't have to end this way! **_But my heart was freaking out for a different reason. This had been the second time that someone close to me had left. My heart was telling me how stupid I was for letting this happen to me twice. For letting my guard down; for allowing someone to pass these fences only to get my heart stomped on. I was still out of it, but I had managed to send an emergency S.O.S text to my two best friends. This was going to be a long day.

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><p>Within 30 minutes, Kurt and Tina had me in a tight embrace as I cried my eyes out. We were still in my bedroom because I couldn't get myself to leave out of the spot that he had left me in.<p>

"It's going to be okay, baby. I promise," Kurt cooed into my ear.

"We're going to help you get through this MJ!" Tina had been in charge of tissue control; her role assigned by Kurt as usual. So far, I'd gone through a box of tissues and by the look on my best friend's face, it was disgusting.

I forced my eyelids shut. I already had enough of their kind and positive words. It was all **bullshit**; nothing was going to be okay.

"No it's not! It's not going to be! This is Sam's entire fault! Why did he have to come back and ruin everything? My life was fine without him! Greg is gone because of him. How am I going to tell people that it's over? Oh my God, my parents…" I broke free from their grip.

Tina laid her head back down on my shoulders, and I sensed Kurt tense up. He had been the most consoling, but now he was staring down at me with such a hard expression.

"Are you…I can't believe this!" He got himself out of bed. For a minute there, I thought he would storm out, but he stopped in his tracks and turned to me. His face was extremely flustered.

"Kurt?"

"Your fiancé just _left_ you, and you're crying over _**Sam**_?" For some reason, his words hurt more than Greg's. Kurt was always 100% with me; if he had something to say to me, he never held back. This is why I knew he was serious, and I just groaned. I was so tired of hearing his name. I wanted to forget his name; I wanted to take his name and throw it in the trash. All thoughts of him needed to be somewhere in the trash, in the dumpster, in a foreign country.

"Why does everyone just assume that is about him?"

"Because it is," Tina spoke softly. It thoroughly surprised me. My best friends were looking at me, and I felt so small. I felt so ashamed as a new wave of emotions ran through me. _**What the hell is wrong with me?**_

Kurt sat down again and cupped my face. "Nothing is wrong with you," he said reading my mind. That's what I hated and loved about Kurt at the same time. He always knew what I was thinking, before I was even thinking it.

"But you've got to stop doing this to yourself, you've got to stop…lying to yourself. You invested yourself in a relationship, and you still let him run your life."

"I'm not letting him run my life!"

"Then why have you shed more tears on Sam, than any other guy you've dated? Greg just left, and you're wailing about how Sam is ruining your life. Look at yourself in the mirror! You're ruining your life because you're lying to yourself. And the more you're lying to yourself, the angrier you're getting. This isn't the Mercedes that I know and love. You're frustrated and unhappy with life because…"

"Stop!" I didn't want to hear any more of it.

"I'm so over people telling me how I'm feeling! None of you understand how I feel." I had had enough of all of the stress, the drama, and the tears. I wanted everything to be over.

It was Tina's turn to look hurt. "Mercedes, how can you say that I don't know how you feel? It blows! It sucks to have your mind pull you in one direction and have your heart pull you in the other. I might not be going through the exact same situation, but I _understand_. We're here for you! Why won't you just let us help?"

I paused to look at the both of them. Here I was freaking out, and all they were trying to do was piece me back together. I felt so stupid and selfish. I had two best friends that would do anything in the world for me, and I was pushing them away too. It was finally time for me to realize that I didn't know what I was doing; that I was lost.

"You guys…" My tears started up again. The both rushed to my side and just held me. Kurt then said something to me that forever changed my life.

"Baby girl, if you just allow yourself to love truthfully, everything will be okay. When you figure out love is all that matters, everything else will seem so small. Your life will change drastically if you can just admit to yourself that he's always going to be a part of you."

Before I knew what I was doing, I released myself from their arms and ran over to the closet. I ran into my bathroom, swiftly changing my clothes and putting my hair up. When I emerged from the bathroom, Kurt and Tina were bewildered. I didn't have time to think about their reactions, I just needed to go. I found shoes and slipped them on. I went to grab my keys from the nightstand, when Kurt yelled out. "Where do you think you're going?"

"You can't drive like this MJ! It's too dangerous. You're upset," Tina called out after me. I continued for the door and I considered leaving without a word, but I stopped.

"I love the two of you with all that I have, but right now, I need to go and figure out something."

Tina looked like she wanted to say something but she stopped herself. Kurt nodded briefly.

Everything happened in a blur. Once I got into my car, I sent a quick text, and turned my GPS on. Thankfully, I had a full tank of gas. I didn't know where my little car was going to take me, but I just knew that I had to go. My phone lit up, giving me what I needed, and I was off. I drove, and I drove.

As I drove, I reflected on the past years. I looked back on all of the things my friends had told me, and everything just clicked. It was like the universe trying to tell me something, and I was just now receiving the message.

"_You'll settle for a life that you think is the best, but in reality, you and Sam are meant to be together. Sure things might not get fixed before you leave, but it's a start," Quinn had told me this before I left for college._

"_Do what you have to do, but I won't judge you for it," Tina said to me that day._

"_When you figure out love is all that matters, everything else will seem so small," Kurt assured me just a few moments ago._

"_I'm never gonna let you go Mercedes Jones," he wrote to me years ago._

I was pretty sure that I was breaking all sorts of speeding limits, but I didn't care. Luckily for me, there weren't any cops out to get me. After what seemed like forever, I made it. I had to have been driving for several hours. When I got there, it was pitch dark outside and pouring down rain. I didn't have an umbrella, and I still didn't care. As I stared up at his apartment complex, I started to realize the severity of the situation that I had gotten myself in. But I couldn't turn back now. It was a long walk up to his door, not because of the distance, but because I was trying to keep myself from running away. I had to go through with this. I knocked furiously on the door. I wasn't even sure that he would even be here, but I didn't drive all of this way to give up now. He opened the door and I was both relieved and scared to death.

"Mercedes?"

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><p><strong>AN: ;FNSDFDFNG;DFGDNHG;DJHN;DHJN OMFG. I know. So this should have been written and updated days ago! But things in my life started going crazy. Yesterday, I spent most of the day fangirling over Tumblr as I watched the London Harry Potter Red Carpet Premiere. Then, I had to go to work. Also, this morning, I received some pretty exciting news, so that also slowed down the process. Overall, it's been a crazy week! So, yea, but it's finally updated. I don't honestly know when the next update will be. This chapter alone emotionally drained me. I went back and forth so many times! And if you all remember, I said this next week will be INSANE for me, so I just don't know when I'll be writing again. Leave your reviews as always. They make me happy, and I consider all of your thoughts. I'm really scared to see how all of you feel about this though, but it had to be done. **

**Alright, random question: What is the song that you want to dance with your future husband/wife at your wedding? What will be…**_**your**_** song? It's just a random question and I want to see what you all are thinking. Unlike Mercedes, I'm in the mood for a wedding lol So let me know in your reviews! **


	10. Anytime

Here's the newest chapter! The chapter was inspired by Anytime You Need a Friend by my girl Mariah Carey.

Disclaimer: No ma'am or sir.

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><p>It had been a month since I'd been back in Tennessee after my unplanned trip to Lima had failed epically. My family was pretty pissed that I didn't stop by when I was in town. I believe "YOU SUCK" was the exact text message I received from Stevie. I felt bad since I hadn't seen them in so long, but I couldn't bring myself to stay. Mike tried to convince me that maybe it was time for me to move back to Lima, but I didn't see the need to. Besides, he wasn't staying, so why should I?<p>

I was for sure Mercedes had gone back to living her life happily without me. I felt like a fool for actually believing she'd still be available and willing to talk to me. I didn't blame Mercedes one second for the words she said, but God knows it hurt. If she was right about one thing, it was that I needed to move on. I'm watching all of my friends move on with their lives. And it's like I am stuck here, standing still. I thought about taking up a new hobby or starting a band, just to try and forget about everything. I even considered traveling. It would have been nice to leave the states to clear my mind. But none of those dreams came to fruition. As much as it may have helped, I never left. Something made me stay; I wasn't ready to leave yet.

So instead, I got a puppy. I had no shame in saying that I was a little, okay **a lot** obsessed with him. James was the epitome of man's best friend. He was an adorable black Labrador. I spoiled him with treats and belly rugs on a daily basis. He could have been my _own child_. My landlord was definitely not happy when he heard that I'd bought a dog, but even he couldn't resist James' charm. Little James was calm, cool, and collected for a puppy. He hardly barked unless he sensed danger or something he wasn't familiar with.

It was a rainy Saturday night in Wentworth. While all of my friends were at home being adults with their spouses and families, I was home alone watching Family Feud listening to the rain fall. I didn't mind at all; I absolutely loved the rain. It was therapeutic. And besides, I wasn't really _alone_. I had my TV, my remote, my amazing Avatar snuggie, and of course, James by my side.

It was almost 11:30 at night. I guessed that it was time for me to head to bed. Church was in the morning, and after that, James had an appointment with the vet. I went into my kitchen to refill his doggy bowls when there was a knock on the door. James started barking like crazy!

"Calm down boy, you know Eric doesn't like it when you bark," I said petting his head, but he continued to yelp. "What's wrong boy? Do you think I should get my rifle?" I said talking to him as if he were Lassie. He was no Lassie, but James was a smart dog. I was a little nervous; I hadn't seen him this upset, ever. I quickly discarded my snuggie and headed towards the door. One time, I forgot I had it on and answered the door to reveal a very amused Girl Scout. Before I could take it off, she snapped a photo of me. I had to buy five boxes of Thin Mints just to get her to erase the picture. I wasn't that worried about the photo; I just bought the cookies because I was very impressed with her blackmailing skills. And because Thin Mints were totally awesome.

When I looked through the peep hole, I was for sure I was having hallucinations from that bad Chinese food I eaten earlier. Mercedes Jones was standing outside of my door at 11:30 at night, in _Tennessee_. I opened the door so fast that it could have fallen off its hinges.

"Mercedes?"

I couldn't believe she was here. It didn't make sense to me. I stared at her for a second and after the initial shock, I noticed she was soaking wet.

"Oh my goodness, come inside! You must be freezing," I said pulling her inside. It was transitioning from summer to fall, and the high had only been 60 today. Who knows how cold it was outside, but her shivers told me that it was pretty cold.

"I'm s-sorry for not c-calling to let you know I was coming. I don't have your n-number anymore so…" Her teeth were chattering and her eyes were watery and red. Her hair was drenched. Her clothes looked like she ran through the sprinklers.

"Don't you worry about explaining anything to me right now; we need to get you dried off. Right, James?" My puppy had stopped barking and went to snuggle up to Mercedes' feet. She smiled at him affectionately.

"Come on, there's towels in my bathroom. I have a blow dryer in my room, along with some sweats and a shirt for you to change in." I took her hand and led her down the hall. James followed us; his paws clacking against the floor and his tags jingling. I stopped when we got the bathroom, which was across from my room.

"Here's the bathroom, and this one is my bedroom. Take as long as you need," I said to her with a warm smile. She continued to cry silently, but she managed to smile back.

"Thanks Sam, I swear it will all make sense when I explain it to you," she opened the door to my bathroom. James tried to follow her but I stopped him."Oh no boy, give Mercedes some privacy!" I scooped him up, but he started licking my face making Mercedes laugh.

"See? This is why I don't take you to the doggy park. One look and the girl puppies would be all over you," I laughed at him.

"C'mon James, you can come with me. I don't mind," she said letting him follow her. When she closed the door, I let out a much needed breath. I was freaking out, to say the least. What was she even doing in Tennessee? And why was she crying? I would have kicked Greg's ass if he did anything to my girl…well, um his girl now. Whatever it was, it had to have been pretty serious for her to travel all the way here. How did even get my address? I needed to sit down.

Back on my couch, I contemplated calling someone, but I decided to wait for her to explain as she said she would. When I reached over to pick up my remote, I examined my Avatar snuggie laying there. I smiled remembering when I got it.

"_I can't believe we just graduated from high school!" Mercedes exclaimed as she pulled me into a hug. I was so proud of her, along with everyone in our class. I was especially proud of her because she had graduated with honors. _

_We were at one of the many graduation parties at the Hudson-Hummel household. Everyone was still on a "graduation high." All of the boys still had their caps on, and the girls were busy taking tons of photos in their dresses. Mercedes had broken away from the group for a moment to come and talk to me. I was sitting on the couch with Mike as we watched Finn and Puck play the new Madden 2K13. _

"_Me either, I'm so proud of you baby," I said kissing her on her cheek. She let out a giggle as she reached to her purse. My eyes widened when she pulled out a gift wrapped in Avatar gift wrapping paper. "Oh wow, I don't even want the gift, can I just keep the wrapping paper?" She just shook her head at my childish ways. _

"_Just open it, will you?" _

_As I opened the gift, I had no words. She was officially the best girlfriend in the world. There was no way that I ever deserved her. My mouth stayed open as I sifted through the package. There were multiple gifts! I immediately noticed the DVD. It was Avatar: Extended Collector's Edition. _

"_You didn't have to do this!" She really didn't have to do this, but I was so glad that she did. My copy of Avatar got ruined when Stacey accidently stepped on it one day. She cried for days, and even though I insisted that it was okay, I was dying on the inside._

"_Go on Sam Evans, there's more! See what else you've won," she said imitating a TV game show announcer. I found the poster next. I unraveled it and almost shit my pants. My unworthy eyes lay upon an Avatar movie poster signed by the one and only James Cameron._

"_How on earth did you get this?" I was __**fangirling**__ to say the least. I'm surprised Puck wasn't recording this entire situation to upload to YouTube later._

"_My older brother's college roommate may or may not be friends with the son of someone that knows James Cameron," she was smiling cheekily. I felt like a punk, but tears were welling in my eyes. I wouldn't dare to let one fall though."Ah, don't cry just yet! There's still one more left." She took out the last gift, which was wrapped separately from the others. My poor little heart couldn't take any more surprises. I was almost afraid to open the next gift._

"_You open this one. I don't think I can take the excitement."_

_That wrapping paper didn't stand a chance. Mercedes ripped it open like it was a gift for her on Christmas day. She held up a blue thing with sleeves that read Proud to be an Avatard. I broke out into an infectious smile._

"_Do you love it, or do you love it?" I grabbed it from her and ran my fingers across the threaded letters. _

"_Of course I love it…what is it?" She looked shocked! I felt bad for not knowing what it was, but what difference did it make? I was going to love it forever. "It's a custom-made Avatar Snuggie just for you! Look at the pockets," she exclaimed. I looked down to see that the pockets had too been personalized. One of them with my initials on them, and the other with my favorite quote from the movie. __**Sometimes your whole life boils down to one insane move.**_

"_You remembered?" There was a blush that crept onto my face. I had told Mercedes a billion facts about Avatar; I never thought she actually paid attention to it all._

"_I remember everything. And besides, the quote kind of relates to us. I made the insane decision to say yes to that first date, and look at us now!"_

_I bombarded her with hugs and kisses. After she calmed her fits of laughter, I got serious. "Babe, you like, win ALL of the awards for Best Girlfriend Ever. Hands down."_

"_Yea, yea. I love you too. Now, time for cake!"_

I grinned thinking about how she had to explain to me later that it was actually a blanket with sleeves. I picked it up and looked inside that pocket. She had never told me about it, but the inside of the left pocket contained another gift. I found that out one day when I went looking for some Skittles that I had dropped. _Sam and Mercedes, forever _was engraved on a patch. I smiled sadly looking at the phrase. It was crazy looking back on how so much had changed in all of our lives.

About 30 minutes later, Mercedes and a very happy James emerged from my room. "I think it's safe to say that I've found my new best friend," she said holding James in her arms. I pretended to be hurt and grabbed my chest. "You left me for another woman? What happened to man's best friend?" She laughed when I held my arms out to him and he proceeded to lick Mercedes on her cheek. What a shame, just two seconds ago he was licking me on my cheek!

When I looked closer, I noticed that Mercedes had found my old McKinley football sweats and a New Directions shirt we got from Regionals our senior year. Her hair was now dry and pulled up into a messy bun. I had to hide my thoughts because she was still taken and probably wanted nothing to do with me, but she looked so damn good in my clothes.

"Wow, talk about high school memories!" I pointed to her outfit and she just smiled uncomfortably.

"I'm sorry; I didn't want to take any of your good stuff! Although, these sweats are _so_ comfortable, you might not get them back," she said looking up at me. For a moment, it was awkward. I really wanted to know why she was here, but I would let her tell me when she was ready. Her eyes traveled behind me and she looked surprised. I turned to where she was looking and cursed under my breath.

"I can't believe you kept it," she said brushing past me to pick it up with her one free hand. She studied the gift she gave me years ago for a minute. I couldn't help it, but memories of us flooded my brain. Before it got too awkward, the subject at hand needed to be changed.

"So, can I get you anything?" I asked hopefully breaking the tension. James jumped from her arms and ran into the kitchen. He must have thought I was talking to him.

"What do you have?"

I smiled as I remembered my recent purchase. "There's a brand new, untouched half gallon of Red Velvet Cake ice cream in the freezer. What do you think? How about I get you a bowl?"

She smiled at the mention of her favorite ice cream. "I think…I think it's very awesome that you remembered."

We walked into my kitchen and she sat down at the small island. James sat at her feet and wagged his tail. He was in love with her already, not that I blamed him. I took out the ice cream, retrieved two bowls, and handed her a spoon. Her eyes lit up at the sight of the cold and delicious treat. After serving her and myself, we enjoyed it in silence. I didn't want to risk saying the wrong thing and upsetting her.

"Greg left me today," she stated simply avoiding my eyes. I felt a mix of sadness and rage. _**Calm yourself down; you haven't heard the whole story yet. **_

"I'm so sorry, what happened? Are you okay?" I was reluctant to take her hand, but I did anyway. Surprisingly, she gripped it back.

"Yes, well no, I-I really don't know what I am right now. But, it's not what you think." She took her hand back and placed both of them in her lap. She looked around my apartment before returning her eyes to mine.

"Do you want to talk about it?" As much as I was shocked and confused about the current situation, Mercedes needed a _friend_. And if her mother was still the same as I remembered, she probably hadn't taken the news very lightly. She didn't need me bombarding her with questions; she just needed someone that would listen.

She stared down into her bowl and stayed silent. I guess that answered my question. But if she didn't want to talk, something must have been on her mind to drive as long as she did. Startling me, she began to speak with a soft voice.

"This morning, I honestly didn't see it coming. For the past month though, I'd been super bitchy and attitudinal. All of the wedding planning was just so tedious and _annoying_. Before I knew what was happening, my life was turning into…something I didn't want. I mean, I didn't want _anything_ to do with the wedding. Crazy right? The bride not caring about the wedding; it's supposed to be like, every girl's dream. But it wasn't a dream anymore, it was a nightmare."

More tears were threatening to fall from her eyes, but she immediately wiped them away. She looked like she had done enough crying. I yearned to make her feel better. It broke my heart into the tiniest pieces to see her hurt. I guess I could have been just _a little_ bit relieved that it wasn't me this time making her cry.

"And then today, well it started out as usual. Greg would wake me up to tell me about something we needed to do for the wedding, and I would whine and beg to do it another day. On every other day, he'd oblige. But today, he just _snapped_. Greg has this great smile," she said happily. She stared off into the distance as if she was picturing him in her mind. Damn that guy, he was too good looking for his own good.

"That smile wasn't there today, at all. I don't know why I'm crying, because it's my fault! He finally got fed up, and just left. I can't blame him, especially with the way I've been acting. But it hurt _Sam_, it really hurt. I didn't see it coming at all."

"Wait, that's it…" I said surprising the both of us. I didn't realize I had said it aloud. My cheeks were on fire and I scooped more ice cream into my mouth. She had look of embarrassment on her face and I immediately felt like an idiot.

"I didn't mean it like, well whatever you thought I meant, I didn't mean it like that. It's just…I'm having an extremely difficult time believing he just left you for such a stupid reason," I said in disbelief. I would have never thought Greg was the type of guy to just up and leave over something so small. So what she wasn't that into the wedding? What happened to never giving up and working things through? Or whatever type of bullshit he would say. Okay, well it's only bullshit because he would say it.

"Well you did," she said quickly. The tension between us was unbelievable. Talk about pouring 10 gallons of salt on an open wound. My cheeks were red again and I couldn't look at her.

"_That_ was mean. I'm so sorry; it's honestly out of habit. I told myself I would stop doing that." Her pleading eyes made me realize that her apology had been sincere.

"You don't have to apologize, I definitely deserved that," I chuckled softly. We were both done with our ice cream so I gathered our bowls and took them to the seat. When I turned back around, she was now facing me in her chair with a stern look on her face. "But you were right, that wasn't it. There was something else," she said letting out a nervous breath. I wasn't in any place to rush her, but it was killing me. What the heck was going on?

"It was you. Greg thinks I'm still in love with you." And with that, I needed to hold on to the counter to make sure I didn't collapse. I saw her lips move, and I definitely heard sound produce from her vocal cords, but those words couldn't have come out of her mouth. We stared at one another for what seemed like forever. I stopped trying to convince myself that this moment wasn't real, and finally accepted it for what it was. I couldn't get too excited though, this didn't mean anything. In fact, I didn't even know what 'it was you' meant.

I cleared my throat and tried to put coherent thoughts and sentences together before opening my mouth.

"B-but, he doesn't have anything to worry about, right? He's obviously mistaken."

My eyes were wide as I cautiously entered dangerous territory. And as crazy as it sounded, I was hoping she would say yes. Sure it would have sucked, but it would have been easier to deal with yes. Yes means that she can still convince Greg to come back and still get married. No means we open Pandora's Box of Absolute Hell Breaking Loose. Don't get me wrong, I still loved and cared deeply about this woman. But if she had feelings for me, we'd have to deal with a ton of other drama. For instance, Greg finding me and kicking my ass, or Mercedes' mom plotting my death. Her previous life was fine without me. I instantly felt responsible for all of this. If I had just stayed away, maybe I wouldn't have been a part of the equation. Ok, so maybe it didn't make sense, but I felt somewhat guilty.

"No. At least, I don't think he's wrong," she said this time staring me down. My brain was on overdrive as my mouth fell open. There were so many thoughts; I didn't think I could process them all. My mind was saying, shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit _shit._ My heart on the other hand was dancing around to "Teach Me How to Dougie" like an idiot, fist pumping like a champ, singing sounds from Broadway musicals, enjoying a nice Southern meal, playing hopscotch, and watching Avatar. I was so torn; I didn't know what to feel. I knew that taking her in my arms and laying a nice kiss on her plump lips wasn't the right thing to do at the time, so I had to think of a rational plan.

"Mercedes, you're sure about this? Are you sure you aren't like, having second thoughts about marriage or whatever? I know it's scary, but you can still get him back if you wanted-"

"Sam. I really don't think I would have driven, how many miles? Oh yea, 453 miles in a day if I wasn't sure." She smirked at me and I just stood there dumbfounded. I was about to be extremely upset if this was another dream I was having. I honestly wouldn't know what to do myself if I had to wake up from this. My thoughts were interrupted when I noticed the bothered look on her face.

"Are you okay?"

"Yea, it's just I have this massive headache. I am so tired, but I kind of don't want this conversation to end." Smiling like a fool, I couldn't get over how wonderful she was. And as much as I didn't want the conversation to end either, we were both exhausted.

"Well, let's get you in bed then," I said with just too much excitement in my voice. She raised her eyebrow curiously as my eyes widened at my mistake. "That wasn't supposed to sound as bad as it did, I promise. I just don't think you should drive anywhere to find a hotel, and you look pretty tired." I didn't know how many times I was going to blush that night, but the number was getting high.

"It's quite okay, Sam. So, you don't mind if I take the couch?" I laughed involuntarily but then stopped when I noticed that she wasn't laughing with me. "Miss Jones! What kind of Southern gentleman would I be if I left you to sleep on the couch? My bed, now." She laughed again as I once again made myself look like a tool. I started to talk again, but she beat me to it.

"Yea, you definitely need sleep too, Sam. I'll let you get to it." Mercedes hopped off the bar stool and slowly walked towards me. Her short arms wrapped around me. I tensed at first; it had been so long she we shared an embrace. But then, I eased into it. Being in her arms felt so right.

"Thanks, for this. For just, listening and being a friend when I needed it. I don't deserve your kindness; I was pretty harsh the last time I saw you. And I know you probably don't feel the same way anymore, so I hope I didn't freak you out. Just…thanks." If she only knew how wrong she was.

"Anytime. Anytime you need a friend, I'm your guy. Now go get some sleep, we'll…figure the rest of this out in the morning." She finally let go and headed off to bed. Mercedes walking down the hall to enter my bedroom was a sight that I could definitely get used to.

After Mercedes closed my door, I did a victory pelvic thrust. I had no idea what tomorrow would bring, but something told me that light was at the end of our very dark tunnel. Even if it was only friendship for now, I was so glad that she was speaking to me. I scanned the room to see James snuggled up on the couch with my Avatar snuggie, fast asleep. As I laid down with him, I whispered to him with a smile on my face.

"Hey boy, I think we might have something here."

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><p>AN: So if you haven't had Red Velvet Cake Ice Cream, your life is incomplete and I advise you to go and try it. It was a life changing decision for me! Also, 5 dollars to the person that gets the One Tree Hill reference. Lalalalalala, I won't rant on this time, but I will say that I'm so appreciative of all of your reviews and kind words. I love talking to you all on Tumblr as well; everyone's so sweet. Read and review as always, and enjoy your week. I know I always say, "I don't know if I'll have time to update soon, blah blah blahhh," and then I end up updating anyway. Well, this week might just be an exception! (SO BUSY!) Until next time, love and smooches :]


	11. So Far Away

**Disclaimer: So let's say if I did own Glee...Chord would be mine. MUAHAHAHAHA. Just kidding only a little bit.**

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><p>The events of the previous 24 hours were a complete blur when I woke up this morning. Although, one thing that was very clear was my massive headache. My eyes opened to an unfamiliar scene and I found myself panicking for a brief moment. In that brief moment, I had almost forgotten that I was in Tennessee, laid in whose bed? None other than Sam Evans, of course. That I hadn't driven almost 500 miles, only to find myself at his doorstep. I had almost forgotten that Greg had left me because he and everyone else knew that I was lying to myself. And I had <em>almost <em>forgotten that I basically admitted my suppressed feelings to Sam in his kitchen at an ungodly hour. When that brief moment was over and reality started to settle in, I realized that my life was _screwed._

Lifting the covers, I saw that I was dressed in a New Directions shirt from years ago and McKinley High School Football sweats. The comforter covering the lower half of my body was navy blue, very simple. The full sized bed was unusually small compared to the Queen sized at home. I scanned his room from the right side. There was a tall, oak drawer set with tons of pictures placed on its surface. A smile spread across my face as I saw a picture of the Evans family minus Sam. I missed them _so_ much. There was the occasional Christmas card here and there, but after he left, the ties to his family didn't stay strong.

With the exception of a few pieces of wall art and the Avatar movie poster I had given him for graduation, his ivory walls were bare. On the left side, his closet door was open. Sam hadn't changed at all; his clothes were scattered on the floor of his closet. Only a few pieces were actually on his hangers. Outside of his closet was a green doggy bed that was personalized just for James. His name was embroidered on the fabric, along with paw prints sewn along the sides. Shaking my head, I could only imagine how spoiled that dog was. Who could blame him though, James was extremely adorable.

Next to his closet was his desk. It was a mess; books and papers strewn all over the place. I could barely make out his laptop because it was covered in post-it notes. If we ever got past the "Hey-my-fiancé-kind-of-left-me-because-I-may-still-be-in-love-with-you" thing, I'd have to scold him about cleaning up his desk area.

Closest to me was his nightstand. I couldn't resist snickering as I saw the photo of Sam holding James. He looked so happy with him. Once upon a _long_ time ago, Sam and I talked about getting a dog one day. I almost laughed out loud remembering our conversation about what we would name him.

_Lima Court Mall was drawing near closing time. Being that it was the Christmas season, shoppers were still straggling around in an attempt to finish their purchases. Sam and I had been at the mall for four hours, and our hands were full with bags from various stores in the mall. Shopping with my boyfriend and having him help carry the bags, including my purse, had been a dream coming true. Sam, on the other hand, was clearly not pleased. Stopping short at a bench near us, Sam put down the bags and turned to me with a look of annoyance. _

"_Honey, how much longer do we need to go? We've been in every store, twice. There's nothing left to buy!" The irritation in his voice made me grin on the inside. This was payback for wanting to watch Avatar for the 2,344,789__th__ time instead of making out. _

"_Not much longer, babe. Just one more store. I need to find a gift for your parents," I smiled at him taking out my shopping list. When I looked back up at him, his brows were furrowed in confusion; his green eyes staring at me with much intensity._

"_You don't have to do that." He pulled me close; placing his strong hands on my waist He strategically started placing kisses on my neck. I thought it was cute. He actually thought he would get out of the rest of this shopping trip by starting a make-out session. I pushed him away from me and rolled my eyes childishly. _

"_I know, but somehow I need to pay them back for giving me this wonderful gift," I said sweetly while poking my finger into his chest. He groaned and I burst into a fit of laughter. _

"_That was a good one; clever and you made me feel bad! 10 points for Gryffindor!" _

_I scoffed at his mistake, "We talked about this. I'm in Hufflepuff, sir!"_

"_I know! 10 points to __**my**__ house because Sam Evans, Muggle-born, scored such a hot girlfriend," he said leaning in for a kiss. My hand stopped his lips and I just shook my head. "We're not leaving, and besides, I'm worth way more than 10 points."_

_I helped him pick up his bags and continued to walk down the pathway. I was on a mission; the present that I needed to get was in a department store across the mall. I needed at least 15 minutes to find it, purchase it, and get it giftwrapped. Stopping to check my phone, I saw that the mall closed in 20 minutes. I breathed a sigh of relief and turned to give Sam this information, but he wasn't standing with me anymore. Looking from left to right, he was nowhere to be found. If he had found a video game store, I was going to strangle him._

"_Mercedes, over here!" I heard his deep voice call out from not too far away. I spun around to see Sam standing outside of a store window on the other side of the mall. I crossed my arms, tapping my foot in aggravation. I decided it was too much work to cuss him out, so I just made my way over to his side._

"_Before you give me that look, just see why I stopped. Look at them, they're adorable!" I opened my mouth to retort, but he put his finger to his lips requesting to silence me. My gaze followed his finger as he pointed to the window. My anxiety and confusion fizzled when I saw the puppies in the window. They were all asleep, except for one black Labrador. He was sitting there staring back at Sam. He had this dopey grin on his face; he was mesmerized by the small animal before us._

"_It's so sad that they keep them cooped up in here. I wonder if anyone ever takes them for walks?" His face was filled with concern. In my mind, I cussed him for being so damn loveable. Why did he have to be this adorkable, caring, sweet guy at a time like this? _

"_Maybe you can come in to volunteer for something like that?" My willpower was gone. My bags were already on the floor next to his. I draped my arm around his lower back. "That'd be awesome! James here would like that, wouldn't you boy?"_

"_You're going to name the dog, James? Why not Cocoa, or Spot, or Gunner?" I smiled to myself at my own Cheaper by the Dozen reference. I made a mental note to watch that later. _

"_Oh come on, those are so typical! You don't want him to feel like an animal!" He was so serious that it was almost comical._

"_He is, Sam. The dog is an animal." He gasped at my statment, over exaggerating._

"_Yea, but we'd have to take care of him like he was a small child."_

"_And are we ready for a small child?"_

"_No…but I'm ready for the process of making a child." He wiggled his eyebrows and moved closer to me. I just laughed it off and jokingly punched his arm. _

"_Shut up, Evans. Come on, say goodbye to James, we can come back another day to ask about dog-walking." _

_He waved goodbye to the small pup. Before he picked up his bags again, he gave me a kiss._

"_And_ w_hat was that for?" _

"_For being the best Christmas present, ever." _

My thoughts faded when there was a small vibration near my thigh, followed by a very familiar message tone. When I lifted the covers again, there laid my phone. My heart pumped faster involuntarily. I did _not _want to know who was trying to reach me. It could have been Greg; I certainly wasn't ready to talk to him. I was hoping that it would be Kurt or Tina; I desired to hear their voices. Unfortunately, it was probably my mother; and that conversation would just have to happen another day.

I wasn't surprised to see that I had 36 alerts when I finally got the courage to pick up my phone. 10 of them were text messages, 15 missed calls, 7 voice mails…and 4 video messages? Scrolling through my alerts, they were mostly from Kurt, Tina, my mother, and my father. Oddly, none of them were from Greg. I wanted to be relieved, but I couldn't help to be worried.

Taking a chance, I decided to listen to a voicemail from my mother.

"_You have seven new voice messages. First message received, today, 6:45 am. beep. __**Mercedes, this is your mother. I don't have a clue to where you've run off to, but Greg called us this morning saying that the wedding was off? Whatever you've done, you need to fix it! He sounded upset, but he seemed very content with this decision. Don't throw away your future over cold feet. Your friends and family have worked very hard on this wedding! Call us back when you get this**."_

After hearing the message, I quickly discarded my phone to the floor. I was trembling with rage. Of course my mother didn't call to see if I was okay, or if I was even still alive! All she cared about was a wedding that wasn't even happening. I hated myself for even caring, but for just once I was hoping that _my_ life was a priority.

Realizing that taking my phone to the carpet probably wasn't the best idea, I leaned over to find it. Thankfully, Sam's carpeted floors protected my Crackberry; it was still in good condition. As I was leaning back up_**, **_something on the bottom shelf of his nightstand caught my eye. It resembled a photo album. Curiosity took over me, and before I knew it, I was flipping through its pages.

The inside cover contained a handwritten note. _So you don't forget about us. Don't kill me. I know we think we look cool, but these pictures are from high school. What did you expect? Oh, and about __**those**__ pictures, I found them on an old memory card and thought you'd want them. Merry Christmas bro, Mike. _The pictures in the album took me back to the times of McKinley High. It's funny to think we all couldn't wait to get out of high school. As of now, I would give anything to be a kid again.

The first few pages had a ton of pictures from Glee, school trips, random hang-outs, and football games. The picture of Sam, Finn, Puckerman, Artie, and Mike at our senior homecoming game warmed my heart. The five of them had formed such a close bond during our last year at McKinley, especially Sam and Mike. It hurt to know that their bond wasn't as strong as it used to be.

When I turned to back pages, my throat became suddenly dry. I was practically staring down at a photo montage of when Sam and I were dating. Our prom pictures were there. Sam had taken a photo with both Rachel and I that night. Right in front of me was our individual picture and I was _fighting_ the tears. On the next page, photos of random double dates we took with Mike and Tina were there. One in particular, I was feeding Sam in a restaurant; most likely Breadstix. On the last page, Sam and I were photographed in our graduation cap and gowns. He was bent down kissing me on the cheek, as I held my diploma proudly.

I lost the fight; tears had formed on the picture below. My heart was aching; there weren't enough Band-Aids in the world to help it heal. I kept trying to tell myself how stupid it was to even be feeling this way about him. Even worse, I didn't even know how I felt about him, but it had to have been something to get me to come all of this way.

Greg was this fantastic guy who was ready to give me the world. I ruined what may have been a good life over a high school relationship; a relationship that _he_ ended. What the hell was I even doing here? He might have said that he still loved me at my house, but that was over a month ago. I essentially ruined any chance I had left with him with the words I said. So here I am, Mercedes Jones, the pathetic girl that not only lost one guy, but probably two.

After a few moments of contemplation, I got myself together. This conversation with Sam had to happen. I re-made his bed, and then headed towards the door. When I opened it carefully, a delicious aroma filled my nose and my mouth began to water. As I cascaded down the hallway, the smell continued to fill my nose and I was completely hooked. I had to have whatever he was preparing. Turning the corner, my mouth started to water for a different reason. Standing before me was a shirtless Sam Evans and I had to restrain from letting out the moan forming in my throat.

I could only see him from the back, but this view was perfectly fine with me. It had to have been a _sin_ for a man to look this good without a shirt. Sam appeared busy with making breakfast. This entire scene before me was something that I could get used to. He hadn't noticed that I was there yet, so I had planned to marvel at his beautiful body for a minute longer, but James had other plans for me. Running towards me, barking excitedly, the little puppy had blown my cover. I cursed James under my breath but scooped him up into my arms anyway. A very startled Sam turned to see me standing there. The front of his body was even better. _**Holy…is that a…8 pack? **_He caught me staring and a deep scarlet blush crept over his face.

"G'morning," I managed to get out. It was too early for things to be this awkward. But then again, I was just chilling in the apartment of my ex-boyfriend, in his pajamas, holding his puppy. I had surpassed awkward a long ass time ago, and there was no turning back. Shaking these thoughts from my head, I went to take a seat at the island.

"Good morning to you, I see you've found James," he smirked at his dog.

"More like, he found me," I laughed petting his head. "Hey, do you remember James from Lima Court Mall?"

Sam almost dropped his spatula. His eyes widened with amazement. "You remember James the First? I was just thinking about him! I miss that little guy. He's probably not so little anymore." Sam strode over to his refrigerator and retrieved a half gallon of milk and a small bottle of Tropicana orange juice. He slid the bottle towards me, and while I didn't say anything, I was flattered. I couldn't believe he remembered my obsession with Tropicana in a bottle. I couldn't believe he remembered a lot of things.

My eyes naturally wandered back to his abs. I wondered why he was shirtless; it wasn't that warm. "Aren't you cold?" I asked thinking aloud. He jumped at my question.

"Ah, yea, after church and taking James to the vet, I took a jog. I guess I kind of forgot to put a shirt back on. I'll be right back." He smiled politely and walked towards his room. I almost fell back in my chair craning my neck out to watch him. I frowned; I definitely should have kept my mouth shut. James got bored with me and ran to the couch; I was now by myself.

It was quiet in the kitchen except for the sizzling of the food a low humming of a melody. I found a 1960's style radio on his counter and smiled. I got up, fascinated. With society's obsession with the latest technology, the only radio I had recently seen was in my car. And even that was an XM radio.

"What do you have there?" I heard his voice return. To my dismay, Sam had put a shirt on and my peep show was over. He joined me by the device and smiled. The radio was gorgeous; it had to have been an antique though.

"This radio, it's beautiful! Where'd you get it?" I lifted my head to meet his eyes. His expression was somber. "It was a gift from my granddad before he passed," he gave a small smile. "He fixed it up and let me have it. I used to visit their house all the time and beg for this radio. My parents put it into storage, along with some of our other things. I finally got it back when I moved out on my own."

Tears threatened to form in my eyes as he relished in the memory. A familiar tune started to play and for the 800th time that month, I started to cry. Carole King's So Far Away was one of my favorite songs. My voice was quite rusty; I couldn't remember the last time I sang just because.

"_**So far away. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? It would be so fine to see you face at my door. Doesn't help to know that you're just time away. Long ago I reached for you, and there you stood. Holding you again could only do me good. How I wish I could, but you're so far away**__." _The lyrics rolled off my tongue in ease. He took my hand and joined me in the next voice. His voice was soft, but deep and warm. Our voices contrasted, but it worked.

"_**One more song about moving along the highway. Can't say much of anything that's new. If I could only work this life out my way. I'd rather spend it being close to you. But you're so far away. Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore?**_"

We sang most of the song together, but Sam took the final verses by himself. "_**Traveling around sure gets me down and lonely. Nothing else to do but close my mind. I sure hope the road don't come to own me. There are so many dreams I have yet to find. But you're so far away.**_"

This song had so many meanings and emotion behind it. The lyrics related to us so much that it was painful to hear them.

"_**Doesn't anybody stay in one place anymore? And it doesn't help to know that you're so far away. You're so far away. Yeah, you're so far away.**_"

By the end of the song, I had only managed to let a few tears fall. Sam's eyes were misty as well. He coughed trying to gain his composure. I could see that he was mortified; I'm sure bursting into tears did wonders for his ego.

"How about we eat then?" He squeezed my hand before letting it go. Sam rummaged through his cabinets and pulled some plates and utensils. My mind returned to the food that was prepared. Undeniably, my stomach was roaring and I needed food now. The emotional duet would have to be pushed aside until my energy was replenished.

My taste buds were yearning for the spread that he had prepared. Sam pulled out a platter of fresh fruit and set it on the table. He placed a huge stack of French toast on the table, along with a bowl of eggs and bacon. Finally, he retrieved a basket from the counter. Sam lifted the top to reveal fresh blueberry muffins and my brain almost combusted. How long had I slept? When did he find the time to prepare all of this?

"Shall we eat?" I nodded until my head almost fell off and immediately started grabbing food. We ate in silence. I was thoroughly enjoying this unexpected breakfast. I would have to figure out later how to thank him. Right now, a blueberry muffin had my name on it.

"I've been thinking," Sam started. I couldn't read his expression and his tone of voice almost sounded sad. The muffin was now unimportant.

"About?" Could he have been thinking about how insane this entire situation had been? Had he been thinking about how just over 24 hours ago, I was in Lima, not his kitchen? Or worse, could he have been thinking about our obscure conversation that was bound to lead to many a question? Whatever he was thinking, it was obviously bothering him.

"I need to be honest with you," his fist was on his forehead, fork in hand. He had looked down momentarily before shifting his eyes back to mine. "You were brave enough to drive all the way here to be honest with me. Now, I need to be honest with you."

I pushed my plate away giving all of my attention to him. I _honestly_ didn't expect _Confessions: Featuring Sam Evans_ this morning , but since he brought it up, I guessed it needed to happen.

"It's about the letter, and why I wrote it. I need to explain to you why I broke up with you that first time." Sam bit his bottom lip. My mouth was paralyzed; my eyebrows shot up in astonishment. I wasn't even hungry anymore. He continued to talk when he noticed he had my full attention.

"I know that it's in the past, but it's probably something we need to discuss before anything, don't you think?" He asked. Unsure if he actually wanted an answer, I nodded anyway.

"Go ahead, I'm listening."

Sam took a deep breath. He was rubbing his palms against his thighs and bouncing his legs. It was definite sign that he was nervous. My heart sped up as I braced myself for his words.

"What I said in the letter was true. I didn't think I was good enough for you. And even though you constantly argued with me, I couldn't get past it. On numerous occasions I would tell you to start believing in yourself like I did, but I was being a hypocrite. I felt so…undeserving of you." His nose was red and his lips quivered.

"And even though you won't believe it, I wasn't planning on breaking up with you until I wrote that letter. That dinner with your parents was _harsh_, Mercedes. And as stupid as it was, I actually believed that you set up the arrangement as a way of telling me you didn't want to be with me anymore."

The room was spinning. I had to place my cool hands on my face to get a grip on reality. A mixture of confusion and fear rushed through my body. When he noticed the expression on my face, he further tried to explain.

"I know it was stupid of me, but I didn't-"

"Sam, what dinner are you talking about?"

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><p><strong>AN: Oh okay Sam, so you just _forgot _to put a shirt on? Yea, and I guess you just forgot to be ridiculously gorgeous too? RIGHT. Anyway, h****ello friends! This update was long overdue, eh? Hopefully it was worth the wait! Sorry for my week long absence. I told you all that it would probably be a crazy week! And indeed, it was. My birthday was fun, thanks for your wishes on Tumblr! Seeing Harry Potter literally paralyzed my ability to write for at least 2 days. Every sentence I wrote ended up in J.K Rowling, Harry Potter, Ron and Hermione, or Hogwarts. So yea, I needed a break to calm myself. Speaking of, did any of you see it? **

**Unfortunately because of work, I could not go to the midnight premiere, but I saw it the following morning at 10:40. I will be seeing it again on Wednesday with someone who actually enjoys Harry Potter! I love my brother for seeing it with me, but I don't think he knew what was going on. He says it was a good movie though. COMPLETE UNDERSTATEMENT. I also sang the National Anthem with the choir I used to sing with in high school for an event in town, and that was fun. A girl said, "I feel like we're in an episode of Glee." Which then sparked a Glee conversation, and I was very happy. Okay, enough about me. Read and Review! I hope to update this, How Did We Get Here and Now or Never in the next few days! **


	12. Tears Dry On Their Own

Disclaimer: :( just...no. *sobs*

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><p>The entire morning I had been restless. Barely receiving three hours of sleep, my mind was on shuffle. Usually, my couch provided great comfort to me. But as the estranged love of my life slept in the next room, I became a temporary insomniac. Her words from last night were instilled into my brain. "<em>Sam. I really don't think I would have driven, how many miles? Oh yea, 343 miles in a day if I wasn't sure<em>." It wasn't even _what_ she said, but _how_ she said it that was driving me insane.

Part of me didn't even want to sleep in fear that I'd wake up to find that everything was a dream, like many times before. I tossed and turned excessively; James even _growled_ at me a few times. I fabricated my reaction for his benefit, but James was too adorable to be scary.

Attempting to get more rest was a waste, so I started my day. After recognizing that all of my clothes were in my room, also known as the place where Mercedes was, I had to brace myself. Going into that room meant seeing her fast asleep in _my_ bed. The mere thought of it had my heart beating faster.

I wasn't remotely prepared for the emotions that surfaced when I opened the door. There she was, enjoying her slumber like deserved. At first, I was content. Last night, Mercedes' eyes reflected pain and misery; she was so out of body. I was happy that she was getting her rest. She appeared so peaceful; it moved me. Mercedes was tucked away under my comforter. The light snore that she was producing cast a grin upon my face.

Then, contentment transitioned to anger. I was so mad at myself. It should have never gotten to this point between us. Sure I had the memories, but did I even know her anymore? Due to stupid and careless mistakes, I hadn't just lost a girlfriend, but a _best_ friend.

My heart sank, and now I was more upset than ever. Despair soared through me; I missed Mercedes so much that it was painful. A brief moment of insanity wished that she didn't come back. I knew a life together was impossible. This reappearance was false hope that I didn't need. Every bone in my body yearned for her touch. I had to force myself to not climb into the bed and just hold her. Thankfully, I had errands to run. But even those errands couldn't distract my thoughts. Everything kept leading back to her—to _us_.

During my morning church service, the pastor's sermon was all about "releasing your demons", "being honest with yourself", and "tackling your day-to-day struggles instead of worrying about the future." On the way to the vet, the radio played love songs incessantly as if it was Valentine's Day. When I got to the apartment, my favorite daytime morning show hosts were discussing "Relationships: When is it really over?" Even on my morning jog, thoughts of her flooded my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about her or the past.

I was back at the apartment for the rest of the day and I was still on edge. There was nothing else to do to keep me busy. After a few minutes of contemplation, I found myself cooking breakfast for Mercedes. I'll admit that cooking without a shirt on, especially with bacon, wasn't the brightest idea. But I couldn't go back into my bedroom again and risk an agonizing encounter. She could have been _awake_ this time.

I was busy flipping the stacks of French toast when the sound of James' paws clacking on the floor and his excited bark alarmed me. I turned to see Mercedes standing there with James in her arms. As Mercedes stood there dressed in my sweats, sleep in her eyes, and hair tied up, she still managed leave me breathless. She probably would have disagreed with me wholeheartedly, but the "morning look" was _sexy_ on her. Her cocoa brown eyes were _intense_. She was staring, but her gaze seemed to be focused on a point lower than my eyes. Where was my Avatar Snuggie when I needed it? For a split second, I forgot that I was shirtless. When I realized, I was more than self-conscious. But as I studied her eyes, they appeared to be filled with lust.

After a few awkward exchanges, I was headed down the hallway on a quest to dress my naked torso. I knew I should have scoped out a shirt earlier. As I redressed myself, I had to shake the thoughts of Mercedes ripping the shirt off of me from my head to prevent myself from doing anything stupid. We were both adults now, why was I so nervous? _It wasn't like she had essentially told me she was still in love with me and that I absolutely returned those feelings, or anything. _

When I returned to the kitchen, she was hovered over the counter. Mercedes had found it. I had trouble masking my feelings as I approached her. I explained to her that it had been a gift from my grandfather. Although he had died more than 10 years ago, it continued to affect me each and every day. I would never forget his precious words of advice. "_Just listen," _he said,_ "Just listen to the music. Whenever you're down and out, the lyrics to a song can be the therapy that you need." _

I was lost in my memories when her voice stole my attention. Whenever Mercedes Jones sang a song, whether it had been a classic or the ABCs, the entire world stopped and listened. Her voice got me through the darkest times. Her voice was a magnet and I couldn't let go. No matter the circumstance, Mercedes became one with the song. The lyrics to So Far Away were ironically perfect. We were barely inches away from the other, but we couldn't have been further apart. There was a huge gap between us, and it was my responsibility to fill it.

We had just finished our impromptu kitchen performance. I was seconds close to breaking down all of the barriers and letting the tears flow when she broke the awkward silence.

"How about we eat then?" Her eyes were sincere as she wiped her own tears away.

Mercedes and I ate together at my small island and we didn't exchange one word. I was trying eat, but my stomach couldn't handle one more bite. It was there in that moment I decided that I needed to tell her. I needed to be honest with Mercedes.

"I've been thinking," I began. She was slightly taken aback, but she soon relaxed and focused her eyes upon mine. The words just began to flow. This was it; we'd finally clear the air. There would be no moving forward between us until I came clean. Her confused gaze disconcerted me, but I continued.

When she stopped me, I couldn't have been more unsettled.

"Sam, what dinner are you talking about?" My palms were sweatier than before and my throat was longing for water. I was praying to God that she was having a lapse of memory. She had to have known to about the dinner.

"The…the d-dinner that I had with your parents? The one I had with them short after graduation…the one you knew about, right?"

Mercedes' reaction gave me the answer that I didn't need. The breakfast that I had just finished eating could have easily been returned to its plate. She gasped for air and then proceeded to shake her head slowly.

"Mercedes? You have to have known about it. It must have slipped your-" Her forearms pushed against the edge of the counter and she slid her chair away. After hopping off of stool, she turned away from me. Nothing was connecting in my brain. I knew for certain that her parents hadn't approved of our relationship, but keeping her out of dark about this was something else. It was…_shady_.

"Sam, what happened? What did they say during that dinner?" Her back was facing me, but I could tell that more tears were developing by the quiver of her voice. It was official: Mercedes had no knowledge of this arrangement and I was the biggest idiot to have ever lived.

"I don't think it's important anymore…" The statement was less than a whisper. We were both discovering information that had been hidden for years. I thought that by telling Mercedes about the reasons behind my stupidity would have changed our situation for the better. Instead, I was making it worse.

Mercedes swiftly turned to face me and she was furious. "SAM! You can't drop a bomb like this on me and just say '_it's not important anymore_!'"

My mouth could have caught a billion flies. I just stood there with my mouth open. I didn't see him, but James' tags jingled again, which indicated that he was in the kitchen with us. I desperately wanted someone to knock on the door. Hell, I wanted something to fall through my roof from the second floor. _Anything_ that could have removed me from this situation would have been great. But as I realized there was no escaping this moment, I had to say something.

"They…well…your parents called and invited me to dinner at your house a few days after graduation. I didn't even think to talk to you about it because I was still shocked, you know?" After a blank stare from Mercedes, it was clear that she just wanted me to get to the point. I hung my head low to avoid her eyes. I wasn't ready for the reaction that was on its way.

"Your mother specifically told me to just let go of you; to break things off. That love would never be enough to save our relationship…"

The irritation in her voice made me jump. "No….no no no! I'll admit that she didn't want you in my life…but to tell you to….Sam, I _heard_ you and Mike talking that day. _You_ wanted to break up with me. It was too much for you…" She had backed away even further and the look in her eyes gave me an unwanted feeling. It was a combination of sadness and anger. I had only seen that look in her eyes twice. The first time had been at Rachel's party after she had accused me of leaving her for Quinn. And the second time had been just a month ago at her house.

Mercedes overhearing the conversation between Mike and I was also new information, but I figured that that discussion was unnecessary. "And after Mike and I talked, I decided that I needed to rethink some things. But it wasn't until that night…listen I'm not blaming your parents. I'm not blaming anyone, but I thought you knew! That's why I wrote that letter."

If I would have reacted one second later, Mercedes would have been on the ground. I rushed to her side and held her up. She was trembling and kept muttering, "I can't believe this."

"C'mon, let's get you to the couch so you can sit," I said trying to sound brave. But on a scale of one to scared, I was _petrified_. I aided her to the couch; Mercedes was staring off into space as we got situated. Not caring if it was appropriate or not, I pulled her close to me and made sure her head was resting on my shoulder. We sat there together until her breathing became normal again.

"I know that this has been a crazy and unexpected morning, but are you going to be okay?" I felt her tense and she immediately jerked away from me.

"No, I am _not_ going to be okay." Her voice was just as hoarse as mine. "_**The nerve of that fucking woman!**_ I can't believe I defended her for one second. She…this morning, she called to _bitch_ at me about wedding details. Wedding details! She didn't even ask if I was okay, or if I was even alive. I could be dead somewhere in a ditch, and she'd only care about the waste of my wedding dress." Mercedes furiously wiped a tear from her eyes.

At first, I only heard wedding dress. I couldn't control my heart as I pictured her walking down the aisle to meet me at the altar. Nothing would matter except for me and her. I'd look her into the eyes, tell her that she was the most beautiful woman in the entire galaxy, and make her my wife in front of a packed church.

But when her actual statement sunk in, I balled my fists. I hated this. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't disagree with her. Many times when we were together, I found myself rocking her to sleep after arguments with her mother. It thoroughly pissed me off when someone didn't see the excellence and the beauty in Mercedes Jones, especially when it was her own mother.

"My father is even worse. He just sits there and lets her do all of these horrid things! I just don't get it, when I was younger, she was my hero. And now…I don't even know what to call her. I am angry. I am livid. And I am completely stunned, Sam. They kept this from me for years. I don't know who to be more upset with, you or them."

My eyebrows furrowed at her statement. Mercedes being pissed at her parents was a given. But her frustration with me about the dinner puzzled me. I had been blindsided myself!

Her laughter lacked humor and her smile was tight. "Oh? So, you don't think I should be upset with you? I can't believe that you actually thought that I would do something so…wrong! Breaking up with you through my parents is a _bitch_ move. If I wanted to break up with you, I would have done it to your face. Not through my parents and definitely not through a letter." And just like that, the emotional daggers came out and stabbed me continually. Unlike the night before, she hadn't apologized for her vicious, but true words. She continued to stare me down and it made me uncomfortable. My fingernails gained my attention and I refused to look at her.

"Everything in letter was true. I wasn't good enough. You deserved better than me." She scoffed and her arms crossed against her chest. I lifted my head to meet her eyes and she was not amused.

"Really? Please, _please_ enlighten me, Sam! Tell me what I need; explain the definition of _good enough_!" Mercedes was yelling so loud that it hurt my eardrum. James must have followed us into the living room sometime after we sat down because he was now shaking at my feet. I decided that yelling back wouldn't have been a rational decision. Her rage could have been felt miles away, and I didn't want to threaten my safety.

I took her left hand and placed it in mine. My thumb gently slid across the stone; it was most likely a diamond. The ring was beautiful. This time, I didn't fight the puddles of emotion. Tears slid down my cheeks, but I forced a smile.

"This ring would have taken me the rest of my life to pay for. I bet Greg didn't even have to think about it. And have you seen where you live?" I was quite unsure of what verb tense to use. Was that house even considered hers anymore?

I gestured around my living room and then took her hand again. "You deserve better than this small apartment. You deserve this ring. You deserve a lot of things that I just can't give you." Saying it aloud hurt worse than I imagined. "And that night on your porch, I was right! You found a guy that could give you those things." After I said it, I remembered the reason why she was here a little _too_ late. Before I could fit my enormous foot into my mouth, she spoke again.

"Wow." She looked down into her lap. Her eyes then roamed to something on the floor. Mercedes stretched her arm down and retrieved the blue cloth from the floor. The blanket with sleeves lay across her knees. "Unfortunately, I've come down to two realizations." Her tone of expression was unreadable; my stomach churned.

"Firstly, it's a shame. It's a shame because your move back to Tennessee was completely useless. And secondly, it really sucks because it's like you don't know me at all. Did you ever know me?" I used to fingers of my free hand to massage my temple. My head was throbbing and everything that rolled off her tongue made it worse.

"Mercedes, what are you talking about?" Exhaustion wasn't even the word. It bewildered me that a conversation could leave you physically drained.

"That night on my porch, you said that you had to 'find yourself', right? If I remember correctly, you were done with letting 'other people create the guy who was Sam Evans.' What about your financial situation not _defining_ you anymore, huh? You said that that next day would be a new start for you, but I look at you now and you're the same eighteen year old boy." Her words should have hurt, but I was nothing but understanding. Her hand was still in mine and she squeezed it tight.

"Like I said, I don't think you ever knew me. Because if you did, you'd know that the material shit didn't matter. It still doesn't matter!" She placed her right hand over her lips.

"Please look at me, Sam," she pleaded. Her face was softer; the look of hatred long gone. She tugged my hand towards her and I scooted closer. "I called you a few days later…after I got the letter. I was leaving you a voicemail, but I got cut off mid-sentence."

I could have died. My heart stopped abruptly and my stomach did a somersault that could have made a gymnast jealous. That message she had left played on loop for at least a week. "_I just want to say one last thing…. Sam you were wrong-"_ I never built up the courage to call back, but it gnawed at me for weeks.

"I was calling to tell you that you were more than good enough," she broke into a sob. "That I had been blessed with a lot in my life, but it was you that I was most thankful for. You were more than good enough Sam." Mercedes bit her lip so hard that I feared it would bleed. I leaned over to the small table in front of us to fetch tissues. She mumbled a "thanks" as I handed her the entire box.

How was I so lucky, so _blessed_ to have her in my life? I didn't know how to accept it. Her words, this moment, _everything_; where the hell would we go from here?

"And what about now, Mercedes? Am I still more than enough?" Right then and there probably wasn't the best time to ask that question, but I needed to know.

Instead of answering me immediately, she tossed the Snuggie towards me and rose from the couch. She stood before me, hands on her hips. "James doesn't get car sick, does he?"

"No…wait, why?" James was still at the foot of the couch when Mercedes picked him up.

"Because, we're taking a trip. There's something that I need to do. Something that's long overdue." She began to leave, but she turned back.

"But I think you already know the answer to that question."

She practically ran down that hallway. James and I were alone in the living room. The turn of events was unsettling. But because of it, it was clear that I did, in fact, _know_ Mercedes. And if I knew her as well as I thought, her parents were about to receive a huge surprise.

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><p><strong>AN: Ohhhhkay. So, I really thought that I would have updated before now, but let's just say this past weekend hasn't been the smoothest. Firstly, this chapter is named after the song, Tears Dry on Their Own by Amy Winehouse. Please, let's remember Amy for her talent. She was an amazing artist. Secondly, my heart and prayers go out to everyone in Norway. If you pray, pray for them. If you don't, just keep the people of Oslo in your thoughts. It's extremely devastating to hear about all of the hate and hurting going on in the world. **

**Finally, the news of Chord not returning and everything else to expect in Season 3…let's just say if I said all that I wanted to, this Author's Note would be an essay. So with that being said, I'm just going to say that Chord is moving on to other things in his life, and we need to support him! SAMCEDES FOREVER. Read and Review! I love you all. **


	13. Conspiracy

**Disclaimer:See Chapters 1-12**

**Thanks to Jill1228 and WickedSong for inspiring some of the lines in this chapter! **

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><p>Every word he spoke dug a deeper hole in my heart. I didn't believe him at first. I <em>wouldn't<em> believe him. Sam averted my eyes as much as possible, but when I caught the tiniest glimpse of his expression, I knew it was true. His eyes were a sea of green reflecting pain and embarrassment.

If I would have foreseen this minutes ago, I would have stopped him. Anything else would have been better than hearing the truth. And I couldn't handle it, literally. If Sam hadn't caught me in his arms, I'd be sprawled out on his kitchen floor sporting a huge bump on my head.

We sat on his couch for a while before anyone spoke. Truthfully, I didn't want to hear anything else. I didn't want to be _there_ anymore, but I didn't want to be in Lima either. Anywhere else would have been fine. And even though I had the freedom to leave, my keys were just in the other room, I felt constricted to that couch.

Staring off into the distance, I was racking my brain. How could I have missed this? Of course my parents, especially my mother, didn't want Sam in my life. But I was never suspicious of their actions. They didn't give me a reason to question their loyalty to me. Even during the huge argument we had, I was clueless. She didn't even attempt to tell me the truth.

"_I did not raise you to act like this; I did not. Now I know you're sad. Baby, I know. Sam doesn't know what he's missing." I scoffed, was she serious?_

"_Please Mom; __**please**__ do not pull the 'concerned' mother act." She had a hard time believing that I was talking back to her in that way. In that moment, I really just didn't care._

"_Excuse me?"_

"_Oh don't act like you aren't happy about this mother!" Something in me snapped. If she didn't think I knew, she had another thing coming._

"_You don't think I know that this is partially your fault? You practically pushed Sam away from me. It was you, and it was Dad, and it was everyone in this __**damn**__ family." I was shaking uncontrollably. _

"_Don't talk to me like that! Your father and I just want the best for you," she tried to control me but I just pushed her away._

But I didn't know anything. This had **never** crossed my mind. I thought I knew the worst she could be, but I was so wrong. And believe me, I didn't want to be wrong.

"I know that this has been a crazy and unexpected morning, but are you going to be okay?"

My thoughts disseminated; I practically fled away from him. He and I both knew that question was unnecessary. Of course I wasn't going to be _okay_. In my opinion, there was no such thing as okay. If _okay_ was completely achievable, there would be a lot less hate in the world. There would be no pain; no jealousy or discomfort. If _okay_ was attainable, I wouldn't have been here in this mess.

I wasn't mad; _**anger was radiating from pores**_. Trying to keep it classy during my rant was difficult. I wiped my tears away as if they were dangerous. It wasn't until then had I thought about my appearance. I was looking _rough_. I was certain that my eyes were scary red. I hadn't had time to pack anything, including make-up or a scarf. My hair was tied in a bun with random hairs sticking out. And even though I resembled a sea creature, Sam didn't look at me any different. The thought of it thoroughly pissed me off. I didn't understand how he could be so sweet, yet so oblivious.

Moments ago, he stood in that kitchen and told me how he actually thought the dinner was my idea. Between my parents' deceit and Sam's doubt in my character, I didn't know which was the bigger slap in the face.

The look on his face was priceless, _humorous_ even. I had a right to be upset with him, and I let him know. And when he replied, I couldn't have been more annoyed with his response.

"Everything in letter was true. I wasn't good enough. You deserved better than me."

I was fed up with everyone else telling me what I needed; what I deserved. I practically begged him for his thoughts. Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw that James was shaking. I didn't realize I was yelling as loud as I was until he winced.

When he grabbed my hand, my heart missed a beat. His thumb grazed my engagement ring and once again, tears stung my eyes. My ring was still on my finger, and I had forgotten about it. Looking at it reminded me of the reason why I was here.

He looked up at me. For the first time, he didn't fight it. Sam Evans was crying in front of me and I almost lost it. I know that admitting it aloud was trying for him. I forgave him for the comment about "finding a guy who could give you those things." It seemed as if both of us had forgotten at one point.

Listening to him hurt. It hurt because after all of these years, there wasn't any growth. He moved away from Lima, and for what? I wanted more than anything to show my parents that they were wrong about him. But if Sam didn't believe it, how could I convince him? I thought back to the night I called him. I had so much to say, but technology deflected my confession.

"_I just want to say one last thing… Sam you were wrong-" _

I told him many times before, but this time he needed to _hear_ me. Sam was always more than enough. Growing up, I had everything that a girl could want. But when he came into my life, he brought me an infinite amount of blessings every day. And even in a society where money was everything, it was nothing to me because of Sam.

He didn't say anything, but I hoped that he actually listened to me. His next question honestly shocked me, but I wasn't ready to answer him.

Suddenly, I knew what I had to do. I jumped up from the couch so fast that there could have been a trampoline on the cushion. I ignored the look on his face and explained that there was a trip that we needed to make.

* * *

><p>We had finally crossed the Ohio state line. We could have been on the road sooner, but Sam took his precious time preparing a bag for James and getting himself ready. He blamed the lack of trip detail for his excessive packing.<p>

"_Mercedes, you're not giving me a ton of detail here. What if there's an emergency? I need to be prepared."_

He brought James' doggy bed, his food and water bowls, a leash, blankets, and toys. He attempted to bring his iPod which contained a "special road trip playlist" that he and James liked to listen to. Sam's silly antics bewildered me. His love for his small companion was adorable, but I didn't have time for it.

Sam leaned forward, opening and closing the glove compartment multiple times. After that bored him, he pulled down the visor and I heard him gasp. The mirror was bordered with lights and there was an automated voice that greeted him, _"Looking good." _

Sam turned to James, "Isn't Mercedes' car the coolest, boy?" He grinned ever so happily. I couldn't resist; his smile was infectious. Sam sat back in his seat. I hoped and prayed that he was done playing "What Can I Find In Mercedes' Car?"

For the past two hours he had been asking me questions, talking to James, and searching through every compartment in my BMW. The black 750i xDrive Sedan had been a gift from Greg's parents after graduation. Due to the current situation, I wasn't certain that the car even belonged to me anymore.

"Hey Mercedes?" I had spoken too soon. My focus was on the road, but something told me he was grinning like an idiot.

"Yes, Sam?"

He must've sensed the bitterness in my voice. "I know; I'm full of questions…but are we there yet? You put up the GPS…" About an hour ago, Sam kept pushing buttons on my Garmin. We were close enough that I didn't need the Garmin anymore. To his dismay, I detached the device from my dashboard and placed it into my purse.

"Sam…you'll know when we get there. You did live in Ohio once before, remember?" I saw him nod out the corner of my eyes.

I glanced over at him momentarily. He was sitting back in seat and looking out of the window. Even though I was running the A/C, Sam's window was cracked. Apparently James needed the fresh air to relax. His hair blew in the wind and his scent filled my nostrils. He begged to take a shower before he left. The combination of his soap and Sam himself was addicting. I smiled to myself and enjoyed his presence.

"Mercedes?" His voice startled me. The moment of peace had vanished. I put on my signal and pulled to the side of the interstate.

"What?" I snapped my head towards his direction and scowled. He put his arms up in defense.

"Sorry, you didn't have to pull over or anything. It's just…well ever since you got to my place, I've been wondering…how you actually got to my place?"

"I drove the car-"

"I know, but, how'd you know where I lived? I never told you, which I'm really sorry about. Well, you could have looked me up, which makes sense too." Sam's face was red and his hand had gripped the side of his neck. His rambling was giving me a headache. On road trips, Sam was known to be a talker, but he was on another level today. There was no escaping this discussion, so I gave him what he wanted.

"I texted Mike before I left that morning. I didn't really tell him why I needed it, but he gave me your address anyway. No questions asked. I didn't have your number to call either." I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel. I gazed outside of my windows at the passing cars. I-280 was unusually busy for a Sunday afternoon.

"Ah, that makes sense," he said. I nodded and raised my hand towards the ignition.

"Wait, so you left that morning? Why did it take you so long to get to my apartment, then?" His eyes were full of interest. Curse him and his attention to detail.

"Because, I kind of drove around for an extremely long time before actually getting on the interstate. At some point, I found the courage to actually drive to your apartment. And here we are," I chuckled apprehensively. He gave me a warm smile; I assumed he was satisfied with my response.

What I didn't tell him was that I drove around to all of _our_ spots before I left. I drove by the park; the place where we would take Stevie and Stacey many times or to just hang out together. After that, I passed Breadstix. The memories we made at that place made me laugh. McKinley was next. High school was eons ago, but in that moment it felt just last week. Finally, I found myself at the motel. Sam and his family had left that place with pride, but I knew that a part of Sam would always be there.

"For what it's worth," his deep voice sent chills down my spine. His tone was serious this time. "I'm really glad you did come."

To myself I thought, _**So am I**. _I returned his smile and began to drive again. After a few minutes back on the interstate, Sam was snoring, but I was content with his decision to go to sleep. I didn't even care that he sounded like an angry beast.

After an hour, we had arrived at our destination, and Sam was still asleep.

"Sam, get up. We're here," I said smacking him in the forehead unnecessarily. He jumped up from his slumber with a frown on his face. He had drool on the side of his mouth; his hair was protruding in many directions. When he realized where we were, I busted out laughing.

"But I thought-" I just put my hand up.

"Have you seen me lately? I need to take a shower, do something to this," I said pointing at my mess of a hair. "And as much as I love these sweats, I should probably put on an outfit. Something fierce, you know? I should probably try out my new fragrance too." I smiled at him and then opened my car door. He followed me, opening his door and retrieving James from the back. We rounded the car, and went up my walkway.

"Oh? You have a new fragrance?" He asked me with eyebrows raised.

I smirked because I was glad that he asked. "Yes. And it's called _Eau De WhoopAss_ by Mercedes Jones. My parents are in for a surprise!" His laughter motivated me.

I turned the keys and crossed the entrance. Reality set in heavy like quicksand. The air was cold; everything in my home was unusually neat. If it had been a month ago, the fresh aroma of coffee and cinnamon would have been floating through the air. Greg would be sitting on the couch watching SportsCenter as I made breakfast in the kitchen. We'd still be in our church clothes. Gospel music would be playing lightly from my iHome.

But Greg wasn't sitting on the couch. I didn't know where he was. He left yesterday morning and I hadn't heard from him since then. I shouldn't have cared, but I'd be lying if I said the boxes off in the corner didn't trigger heavy emotion within.

Clutching my purse to my side, I looked up at Sam. He had been staring at me in silence.

"Just m-make yourself at…" I didn't even feel comfortable with referring to this house as a home. "I'll be down as quickly as I can." I sped by him and ran up the stairs. I passed the bathroom and it was spotless. The framed pictures of our family and friends that once decorated our hallway were gone. The house didn't even appear to be lived in.

I stopped short once I reached my bedroom. Just 24 hours ago, he had left through this door. I sat on the bed and watched him leave. As I scanned the room, his belongings had disappeared. His side of the closet had been completely emptied. Everything was becoming too real. In a way, being with Sam in Tennessee was a way for me to deal. His apartment was a safe haven, protecting me from the world. Now that I was back in Lima, reality engulfed me. I grabbed fresh clothing and headed towards the shower. I didn't have the motivation anymore to plan a spectacular outfit, so I chose something simple.

As the water hit my skin, the walls guarding my true feelings became paper thin and got soaked. I let it all out. I cried for Greg. I cried for Sam. I cried for my parents. Of course I was mad at my parents, but I was more upset with myself.

I had been going through various "What If?" situations ever since the secret had been revealed to me. What if they didn't go through with it, or what if I had decided to stay home that night? What if I fought back on the porch that night? What if I didn't let him let _me_ go? Where would be right now? I tried to convince myself that everything happened for a reason, but my heart would not listen to my mind.

My body had officially transformed itself into a prune, so I turned off the water. I dried myself and my hair as fast as possible. After I dressed myself in my jeans, floral top, and a pair of Toms, I attacked my hair. The loose curls would have to be enough for now. The make-up that I applied was light, but it was enough to mask my sadness. I was finally satisfied with my appearance and forced a smile on my face. I needed to do this. Not just for Sam, but for me.

As I descended my staircase, I spotted Sam in the living room. He had laid the blanket out on the couch for James. He heard me approach and the smile on his face gave me enormous butterflies.

"Ready?" He hopped up and joined me at the door. I wanted nothing more than to hug him. But the time wasn't right. I wasn't sure if the time would ever be right. I imagined that was another threshold we'd have to cross soon enough.

My parents only lived 10 minutes away, so the trip was short. Greg insisted on living close to my parents just in case there was an emergency with my father. He had been doing well ever since our engagement party. His case remained a mystery, but he appeared to be healthy. He even played a game of basketball with Greg just this past week, which was why I wasn't going to go easy on him today.

My heart pounded with both anxiety and adrenaline. There had been no speech prepared; I'd speak from my heart. When I got out of the car this time, Sam didn't follow. He was glued to his seat, eyes gazing forward. I knocked on his window and he opened the door. He didn't look at me.

"You can understand why I'm nervous, can't you?" He bit his lip. I laced his fingers with mine; they fit so well together. I pulled him out of the car and replaced my hands on his shoulders.

"We've got this, Sam. I don't really know what I'm going to say, but," I stopped when panic flashed upon his face.

"It'll be fine. I _promise_. Keep James on his leash though, my mother isn't too keen on dogs." He rolled his eyes at that and I just smiled. He hooked James up to his leash and we walked up the sidewalk that led to their door. I knocked furiously; I didn't need the doorbell.

A few moments passed, and no one had answered the door. I was surprised that my mother hadn't seen us outside when we arrived. Back when I was dating Sam, she would wait by the window to be ready to scold me when I came in past my curfew.

I knocked louder; again there wasn't an answer. When I looked at Sam, he just shrugged his shoulders.

"Maybe you should check your phone? Knowing your mother, she probably has a tracking device on your car. She's probably on her way to Tennessee right now," he said with a grin on his face. I narrowed my eyes at him and started to rummage through my purse.

I hadn't checked my phone recently. After my mother's _ever so encouraging_ messages, I decided to give it a rest and silence it. Luckily, my phone hadn't died. The amount of notifications on my phone had skyrocketed. I looked closer and saw that I now had missed phone calls from Kurt, Tina, Mike, and _Greg. _

I listened to the most recent message and my entire body fell limp. I took off towards the car without a word. Sam was calling after me, but nothing else mattered. I was so frantic that my hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Mercedes! What is going on?" I looked up at Sam; he was on the other side of the car. Terror filled his eyes.

"Sam, please! I don't have time to explain, we just need to go!" The shock wore away and I was finally able to unlock the doors. He hopped inside and kept James on his lap. I sped off praying that it wasn't too late.

* * *

><p>The elevator was taking forever. Everyone had to get off on a different floor. I almost snapped at a lady who kept glaring at James. Sam grabbed my hand before I opened my mouth. I squeezed my eyes shut to prevent the tears from falling.<p>

He was _fine_; I was just saying to myself that he had been doing well. I didn't care about anything but my father. I just needed for him to be okay when I got there. My mother's message wouldn't stop repeating itself in my mind, which only made my heart beat faster.

"_Please answer your phone. Your father collapsed this morning and we're at Lima County Memorial. They haven't told me much, but I'm scared. Ask for the room when you get to the fifth floor."_

We made it to the fifth floor and I pushed past everyone in the elevator, pulling Sam along. The reception desk was around the corner. The short woman dressed in scrubs at the desk turned around; her eyes enlarged.

"Hi, I'm looking for a Michael Jones! He's my father and he was just admitted about an hour ago," I said breathlessly. Her face scrunched up.

"I'm sorry miss, but that dog can't be in here!" James was completely irrelevant to the situation. I felt sorry for the woman, because her wig was about to be snatched. Sam pulled me back as I leapt across the desk. Before I could deliver the curse words that were brewing against my tongue, I found myself gaping at Sam.

"Excuse me ma'am, but would you kindly _shut the fuck up_? My friend asked what room her father was in! You can be a bitch another day, but this is an emergency." He expressed no remorse, just persistence.

"5421, he's in 5421. Around the corner, and down the hall to the left," she said with her cheeks flaming red.

We rushed in the direction that she pointed. I halted my steps when I saw my mother standing outside of his room. She was on her phone; she gave a quick goodbye and just stared at me. I approached her cautiously, but she backed away from me.

"Where have you been?" Her tone was gust of wind from the Artic. "Your father is in the hospital, and you've been out gallivanting with _him_?" My mother referred to Sam as if he was disgusting. Everything about her screamed disappointment and rage. I didn't want to look at Sam's face. I didn't want see his embarrassment.

The way she was looking at him struck a nerve. "We're not doing this today, mother. You need to leave all of your judgments at the door. I will explain everything later-"

"You're going to explain to me why you aren't here with Greg, right now." Her brown eyes stared me down. We favored in looks, but we couldn't have been more different. She stepped towards me intimidatingly, but I wasn't afraid of her.

"Don't make me show out in front of everyone, because I will. You don't get to interrogate me! You lost the little respect that I had for you when I found out what you did. I didn't think you could hurt me like this, but you exceeded my expectations! Congratulations, you've won Worst Mother of the Year!"

People watched as they passed, but their stares were far from my thoughts.

"I know about the little dinner you had with Sam after graduation. You even tried to convince me that you were just as surprised about the breakup, but it was your plan all along! You had no right to do what you did. I've been trying to look at it from your perspective, I really have been. But the only conclusion that I can make is that you don't love me at all."

"Don't you dare, Mer-"

"I'm done with you right now, mother. I'm done! Now please excuse me before I do something that I'll regret. I need to see my father," I said grabbing Sam's hand. I brushed past her and entered the room.

I fell to pieces as my Dad laid there helplessly in his hospital bed. There were so many tubes. He looked up at me and smiled.

"Baby girl," he managed to say. I gripped his hand, while Sam's hand occupied my other. I prayed that this wasn't his time. I needed him; there was so much that I wanted him to see before he left.

All I could do was pray.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Expected something else? Please, please do not kill me. It had to happen. I tried to throw in a little bit of comic relief before it all went downhill. Thank ya'll so much for being patient with me! Your kind reviews and messages on Tumblr make my world go round :) If you want to follow me, all of that information is on my profile here. **

**Also, did any of you notice that Mercedes visited the Sam places Sam stopped by when he came back to Lima the first time? Hm? :) **

**Oh! And the chapter title is inspired by Conspiracy by Paramore. I was listening to All We Know Is Falling when I wrote this. **

**Okay, leave your thoughts. Kisses! **

**PS: Mercedes' car was hot. I don't blame Sam for being as excited as he was. And it cost a _fortune_. Good thing Greg's dad used to play pro ball! **


	14. Look After You

Long time, no see! This chapter title is inspired by The Fray's Look After You.

* * *

><p>The look on her face alone was enough to stop the beating of my heart. Something wasn't right. The shift in the air was painfully uncomfortable. I was already petrified of facing her parents; Mercedes didn't even know what she was going to say. Was I expected to make a speech myself? The entire situation was my worst nightmare, but it wasn't the time to bitch out.<p>

But when there wasn't an answer at the door, my heart started on a sprint as if it was in a race. Although I joked about Mercedes' mom tracking her car to find us in Wentworth, part of me believed she was actually capable of this action.

As Mercedes dug through her purse, I took the chance to stare her over. Fashion wasn't even close to being an expertise of mine, but damn, she looked good.

She _always _looked good.

After the tug-a-war battle of emotions we both shared this weekend, it was moments like these that I had come to appreciate. I had to refrain from reaching out and touching her, just to confirm that she was _real—_that this moment was real. Despite the _very_ confusing circumstances, Mercedes was a part of my life again. The six, almost seven years apart was enough torture, and I wasn't going to put myself through that again.

When she finally retrieved her phone, the look of annoyance on her face sent a swarm of butterflies towards the pit of my stomach. Maybe it was wrong to enjoy her slight frustration, but her expression could have possibly been the cutest thing on Earth. She looked up at me, and almost caught me staring. Luckily for me, James was still in my arms. I placed tiny kisses on the top of his head to hide my red cheeks. I knew it wouldn't look suspicious; she was very aware of my unregretful love for my canine best friend.

And for what seemed like the millionth time in the last 24 hours, our emotional rollercoaster took another sharp turn. I was beginning to believe that this dream come true was transitioning to a nightmare from hell.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins after the few choice words I exchanged with that nurse. Although it was probably inappropriate—I _did_ have a dog in the hospital after all—it wasn't the time or place to be the perfect gentleman. As we rounded the corner in a sprint, the sight of Mrs. Jones made my blood run cold. She was undoubtedly upset with Mercedes, but when she caught gaze of my presence, her eyes widened before the eyebrows on her forehead furrowed. I saw the argument brewing before any words were spoken. Oddly enough, for the first time her judgmental stare didn't faze me.

Harsh, yet hushed words were flung back and forth between Mercedes and her mother. I hoped that it wouldn't escalate to anything more, but that desire was a lost cause. And as much as I wanted to launch myself between the two women—their husband and father _was _lying sick in a hospital bed in the next room—this was a conversation that was long overdue. Unfortunately, their timing couldn't have been more wrong.

"I'm done with you right now, mother. I'm done! Now please excuse me before I do something that I'll regret. I need to see my father," I heard Mercedes say. She grabbed my hand firmly as we entered the room.

I had to hold my breath to prevent the gasp that was threatening to escape my throat. The scene was all too familiar. I blinked away the images of my late grandfather and bit my lip. Losing my grandfather was incredibly difficult to endure for me, but this was Mercedes' father we were talking about, and it was hard to imagine what she was going through as she watched him lie in a hospital bed.

Mercedes had once disclosed to me that before I came into the picture, her dad was the only man that she could trust. I loved listening to the stories she had about adventures she used to have with her father. He treated her like the princess that she was. When she was four years old, he brought her a purple tricycle and spent days teaching her how to ride that bike. During her middle school years, he would always pack her an extra pudding in her lunch to ensure a good day at school. Once a year, he'd always check Mercedes out of school to have "Daddy & Me" days. He always checked her out on a different day, in a different season. And the events were always a surprise.

The two of them were close—until I ventured into her life. The guilt was overwhelming. I would have sacrificed all of our moments to take away the current situation.

I bit down so hard that I drew blood, but the physical pain was much better than the pain my emotions were dealing me. Emotionally, I was broken.

This time, the tears that were forming in my eyes weren't for me—Because it wasn't about me–those tears were for Mercedes and Mr. Jones. After the weekend she'd had, Mercedes couldn't handle watching her father slip away before her. I prayed that she wouldn't have to watch her dad pass away in this hospital like I had to with my grandfather. It couldn't have been his time. And although I wasn't close with the man, I wouldn't have wished this upon anyone.

Mr. Jones looked up at his beautiful daughter and flashed a small, weary smile. "Baby girl," he managed to say. His voice was rigid, but full of love. Mercedes' grip on my hand tightened; she was holding on to my hand as if it could save his life.

I didn't have many conversations with her dad back then, but looking at him now, he appeared to be much more sincere than I remembered. He was a tall man; even Finn had to look up at him. His skin matched the chocolate tone of Mercedes', but the muscles that once intimidated me had deflated. Grey was appearing in his hair, and wrinkles had even started to form on his forehead.

Part of me wanted to dislike this man. He was the man who had once put me in an unnerving place in my life—the man who didn't think my love was enough; but I couldn't bring myself to distaste him—especially after seeing Mercedes break down in front of him, and watching the soft way he spoke to her. It was as if all of those feelings diffused into the air.

The past was the past and that stupid dinner wasn't relevant anymore. At 18, I couldn't have imagined putting this behind me. But now, I was more frustrated with myself for holding a grudge for so long.

I heard the door creak and glanced up to see Mrs. Jones quietly enter the room. Mercedes didn't tear from her father's gaze, choosing to ignore her mother's appearance. I looked at the woman reluctantly. It was obvious from her body language that she was still unhappy with me being there. But her eyes reflected something else. And it was something that I couldn't put my finger on.

Her eyes fell to a spot on the ground next to me. James had been so still and quiet that I had almost forgotten that he was there with us. He was sitting on the ground attached to the leash that I was holding.

"They ran some tests when he was admitted. The nurse revealed the results a few moments before the two of you arrived," her mother said as she joined us on the other side of the bed. Her tone of voice annoyed me, but I tried my best to not let it show.

Mercedes narrowed her eyes and glared icily at her mother. Clearly she was still heated from the verbal scuffle from before. I squeezed her hand lightly and I felt the tension emitting from her disappear. Feelings were hurt and the relationships between all of us were way past damaged, but nothing was more important than the health of her father.

Mrs. Jones seemed to ignore this look, and continued on. "Mercedes, your father has a genetic heart disease. It's called Familial dilated cardiomyopathy. The nurse had to explain—."

"What did you just say?" Mercedes's bottom lip trembled. The pain that bounced off her crushed me. It took all of the strength in me to not break down. But I had to be there for her; I wouldn't let go of her hand.

"Mercedes, just let me finish," her mother pleaded desperately. I knew that Mrs. Jones was forcing herself to stay calm because I was there, but I was fully aware that she was falling apart. Heck, _both_ of them were falling apart.

"Why did it take _this_ long to diagnose the disease? He could have—how do we know that this is even right? These are the same doctors that couldn't tell us what was wrong all those months ago! It takes him _collapsing_ to finally do something about it?" Her entire body was shaking and the entire room had gone cold. I felt so wrong for being there, but I had to be strong for her.

"It's a _common_ disease, honey," her mother began. I could now see the tears in her eyes. "But since your father never knew his biological parents, we never thought about this possibility. We never thought to try and research his family history or any of their genetic problems," she insisted.

Mercedes looked down at her father. "Oh Daddy, I had almost forgot." Her voice was raspy and uneven as she spoke and more tears filled her warm brown eyes.

When we were in high school, Mercedes did reveal to me that her dad had been adopted at an early age, so this wasn't news to me. We were actually learning about genetic testing in Biology when she told me. Relatives of people who had been diagnosed with deadly diseases often tested for genetic problems. But since her father didn't know his parents at all, there was no acknowledgement of any problem.

The two of them discussed treatment and how to go about it. Aside from this, her father was in good health. He'd be put on a strict medication routine and his physical moments would have to be very limited during his time of recovery. I tried to ignore his cringe at the mention of a pacemaker, but his discomfort was unavoidable. Mercedes had always told me that her dad was extremely involved in being active. Putting him on bed rest was like taking music away from a musician, or taking paint brushes from an artist.

After a few moments of silence, I caught Mrs. Jones staring at me. Once again, I couldn't see any hate in her eyes, but I still couldn't figure out what her stare meant.

"I'm going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere before I walk you down that aisle." Her father's eyes were filled with nothing but love and generosity.

I didn't understand it then—I couldn't have, but now I saw that his main concern was protecting his daughter. If it wasn't me at the time, it would have been another guy. I'd never understand why I was never good enough for Mercedes in the eyes of Mrs. Jones. But the reason why I wasn't good enough for Mr. Jones was perfectly clear.

It's because nobody would _ever_ be good enough for the little girl he still envisioned her to be. He wasn't ready to let Mercedes go when we were dating, and I was the guy that was taking her away. Mr. Jones was just being a typical, over protecting father. And I couldn't blame him.

Because who's to say I wouldn't be the same way with my own children?

"Oh, Daddy, I love you so much." She threw her arms around him once again and squeezed as tight as she could without hurting him.

I didn't know what the future would bring, but I was glad that they had this moment together. The past 6 years that had been filled with secrets, lies, heartbreak, silence, and distance—but none of it mattered anymore. An unintentional heavy sigh of content released from my nostrils. Both Mercedes and her father glanced up at me as color flourished my cheeks. My usual routine of wiping my hands on my thighs and clearing my throat proved that my nerves were on edge.

And although Mercedes' warm smile calmed me, I could feel Mrs. Jones' eyes burning through my skin.

"Let's give your father some space for rest. Besides, Samuel probably needs to get going," her mother blurted out. I felt the discomfort in her tone as she spoke my name.

My jaw clenched tight and I'm certain that my grip around Mercedes' hand was cutting off her blood circulation—her breath hitching indicated the fact. The narrow slant of her eyes and defensive stance indicated that Mercedes was ready for Round 2 with her mom. The air was tense and I could hardly breathe. I didn't like the twinge of guilt that was brewing at the bottom of my stomach. Sure, the Jones family had issues—issues that were bigger than me; but somehow, I still felt responsible for the tension.

I bent down to pick up James and scooped him up in my arms. Mercedes planted a kiss on her father's forehead and said goodbye to him. I was just about to leave when his voice alarmed me.

"Evans, I'd actually like for you to stay for a minute. We should talk." His eyes were focused upon mine and I matched his gaze.

My throat was constricted and I could only nod my head. I turned my head towards Mercedes, who was shocked yet content. Mrs. Jones' face expressed nothing but terror, but she didn't protest aloud. Mercedes reached forward to get James from my arms, but her dad stopped her.

"Keep the puppy. He's cute." He patted his lap. After a look of concern from Mercedes, he exasperated a sigh. "The dog won't kill me. I promise!"

I smiled at this and so did she. James was quite happy with Mr. Jones and even went as far as licking his face. The two left eventually, which left Mr. Jones and I alone. The silence wasn't awkward, but I couldn't figure out what he wanted from me. I pulled the chair up next to the side of his bed and sat in it. If he wasn't going to start, I'd have to take it upon myself to do so.

"Mr. Jones, is there a reason that you wanted me to stay?" He stopped petting my small puppy and sighed again. Instead of immediately talking to me, he picked up the television remote and turned on the small television that was attached from the ceiling and hung over his bed.

"We'll get to that, but first, how about a little Sunday football? I need something to keep me from going insane." He smiled warmly. For the first time, I was seeing his personality. We had never had a relationship on this level. Our relationship was always that of a cat and mouse—I was always the prey, and he was the predator.

"So, what's your team?" I asked boldly. He went on to tell me that he was a proud supporter of the Cincinnati Bengals. He nodded in approval of my team dedication to the Tennessee Titans. We watched the entire second quarter of the Bengals-Browns game.

"Everyone I know is a Cleveland Browns fan, but I could care less about them," Mr. Jones huffed in aggravation. His eyes never left the screen unless he was taking a break to explain the team's statistics to me.

"Can you believe this, Evans? It's Week 3 and we're already 1-1! It was disappointing enough to lose the Bills in Week 1." I could tell that the game of football was extremely important to him. Mr. Jones reminded me so much of my father—protective, loving, and old-fashioned.

He was yelling at the screen after their quarterback threw an interception. I was afraid that he would get too riled up, but I wasn't going to stop him. He was having fun and so was I.

The clock was winding down and the Bengals were able to stop them, forcing a 4th down punt with 1:23 left to go before halftime. The Bengals had the ball back and brought it down the field. They were on the Browns 20, 1st and goal. After the snap, Andre Jones faked left and threw the ball into the end zone resulting in 6 points for the Bengals. The extra point was good and Mercedes' dad applauded happily. He muted the television and laid his head back a little.

"Now, as long as they do something in the 2nd half, I'll be content." He smiled at me and I returned it politely.

Then out of nowhere, Mr. Jones started to laugh. His laugh was infectious, just like his daughter's. I was bewildered and way past confused, but I couldn't stop from smiling. "The first time Mercedes told us she had a boyfriend, I couldn't sleep at all that night," he laughed even more. James thought his laughter was a sign that he wanted to play so he started chewing on his blanket playfully. This caused Mr. Jones to continue his laughter.

"And then when I met you, panic started to set in." Mr. Jones must have seen the look of confusion on my face, so he further explained.

"As a father, seeing your children grow up is a beautiful thing, but it's also terrifying. And the way you looked at her—let's just say I wasn't ready for anyone to be looking at my daughter the way that you did." His words gave me chills.

"I loved her, Mr. Jones—"

"Michael. Call me Michael," he said.

"_Michael_, sir, I loved Mercedes. I still do. I apologize for scaring you or anything. I never had any intentions to keep her away." My words were true. If anything, I wanted to be a part of her family—not tear her away from them.

"I should be the one apologizing to you, Sam."

I would never have guessed that the conversation would have taken this turn. Honestly, I thought he would have grilled me for being there or finally beat me down for breaking up with Mercedes years ago.

"We blindsided you, my wife and I. That conversation should have involved both you and Mercedes. And at the time, I thought it was a good decision. I was only thinking of Mercedes. But it didn't make me feel any less guilty and it didn't make me feel any more of a man."

His confession had the room spinning. He hadn't forgotten after all of these years. He even felt guilty, which then resulted in my guilt.

I wasn't sure what to say. Up until two seconds ago, this wasn't even a possibility in my mind. My mouth was open slightly and kept opening and closing until I formed coherent thoughts.

"Sir, you don't have to feel guilty or anything less of a man. That happened _years_ ago. And even though it did shake me up, that doesn't excuse the fact that I broke up with Mercedes. In fact, I'm confused as to why you didn't come after me with a shot gun." Michael chuckled under his breath. The smile on his face proved that this idea had once crossed his mind.

"That wasn't necessary, son," he began looking at me seriously. "What matters is the principle. As adults, we could have handled that situation quite differently. I can't go back and change things, but we can move forward from this. I can only hope that you look past my mistake in judgment?"

His hand was extended out in front of me. As I shook it, I pulled in for a hug. Mr. Jones patted me on the back. Before we pulled away, he whispered in a low voice, "You're a good man. Thanks for being with her today. Take care of her." His face was serious and he blinked back tears.

Mercedes' dad was like any good father that I knew—he loved his child. This entire situation made me appreciate my family even more. I made a mental note to visit them as soon as I could. Wentworth could wait; it was about time that I spent some time with my family.

With a brief nod, I glanced back up at the television and noticed that the game had returned. I unmuted the program for him and we continued to watch the game until the end. It was a close game, but the Bengals came out with a victory. I turned to high-five Mr. Jones to see that he was sleeping peacefully. Before leaving, I looked him over and contemplated everything that just happened. He had not only apologized, but asked me to take care of Mercedes and I couldn't stop thinking about it.

Greg should have been the one taking care of her. He should have been here in the hospital room holding her hand. But instead, it was me. It was me that he asked to look after her. And now I was more confused than ever.

After closing the door, I only took a few steps before sliding down the wall. James hopped into my lap and licked my face in support. My phone buzzed, which extracted me from my thoughts. Mike's name flashed across the screen and a sense of relief washed over me.

"Mike, I'm really glad you called," I said hoping he didn't notice the tremble in my voice.

"No problem at all, man. So I'm guessing you heard?" Mike asked sadly. He had been completely oblivious to the past 24 hours of my life, but there wasn't time to catch him up on the details.

"_Very_ long story short, but I'm actually here at the hospital with her and the family." I was already prepared for his reaction, so I hurried along with the conversation.

"Just—I'd have to tell you in person. He should be fine though. He'll be going on a medication routine and staying well rested," I said ignoring his sea of questions.

I felt his sigh of content and smiled to myself. Mike might have changed over the years, but one thing that remained constant was his concern and worry for others.

"Even though I'm still confused as to why you're there, and I _better_ get the full explanation, it's good that you are. I'm actually on my way back now." I could hear a grin breaking from him and it cheered me up immediately.

Mike proceeded to tell me about how he was already headed back to Ohio for a dance workshop he was teaching, but postponed the trip when he heard about Mercedes' father. When he told me Tina had been the one to call him this morning with the news, I heard a little smile in his voice.

I didn't know much about his and Tina's relationship anymore—which was weird considering the extent of the discussions we had in high school.

No way would we ever admit it, but Mike and I would talk to each other about Mercedes and Tina on countless occasions. Of course we didn't have hour long vent sessions, but we were there for the other when it was needed.

"_I'm mentally exhausted; I don't even know what words are."_

_Mike and I had just crossed through the doorway of his house. After a very long and early morning of taking the SATs, we were drained. The fluffiness of a pillow and a warm blanket sounded so appealing. _

_It was a Saturday morning. Stacey and Stevie were at a friend's house and my parents were both at their day jobs. I had requested that day off from work due to the SATs. I essentially had no responsibilities until that afternoon and I wanted to utilize that free time to fall into a deep sleep. _

_After collapsing on to the couch in Mike's living room, my eyes were heavy._

"_Did you want a pillow?" I opened my eyes to see Mike standing before me with pillows and blankets in his hand. I praised him silently as I took a pillow from his hands. _

_He fell back onto his love seat and sighed. And as much as I wanted to take advantage of this nap, Mike's face expressed a deeper concern than standardized testing. _

_I'd curse myself later, but the nap would have to wait._

"_So what is it now?" I sat up facing my best friend. He laughed softly and shook his head at me._

"_How do you always know?" His smile was sincere but his eyes were gloom. He shifted his body towards mine and began to speak. I was pleased that he didn't fight it this time. Mike had always been so quick to play the therapist role, but had trouble expressing his own feelings._

"_I feel so ridiculous," he began. He was staring in my direction, but I already knew he wasn't looking directly at me. The photo of him and Tina on the end table next to the couch captured his attention. _

"_I should be freaking out about colleges and SAT scores—where I'll be in 9 months—but I can't stop thinking about me and her." He leaned his arms back and gripped the back of his head._

"_I want to be with her next year, but the chances of that happening…" his voice trailed off as he buried his face in his hands._

_Mike felt ridiculous and I felt crazy; we were in the same predicament once again. The next months were almost predictable. We'd start our second semester of classes, prepare for graduation, go to our last prom together, and become McKinley High Alumni. But after that, it was a mystery. What would happen to all of us? What would happen to Mike and Tina—to me and Mercedes? _

_As much as I wanted to give him a generic "take it one day at a time" piece of advice, I couldn't. _

_Adults, the media; everyone assumed that high school relationships wouldn't last. And the truth is that most of them wouldn't. But when you find someone special, you fight for them, right? Society doesn't matter when you're with the love of your life. _

_At our age, guys should have been freaking out at the thought of spending the rest of your life with someone. Yes, I was going insane myself, but my situation was different. Both of us were different._

_Life without Tina would be the same as life without Mercedes for me. Unfortunately, the four of us would be pulled in different directions next fall and we were clueless as to where it could take us._

"_I can't tell you what you what to hear because it's going to suck," I admitted. "But if anything happens, let's just make this last year awesome. Make her smile more than usual and do spontaneous things or whatever. Just make it count. And not just with Tina, but with all of us." _

_Mike leaned forward and bumped my fist with a grin on his face._

"_I guess not all blondes are stupid," he said cracking up at his own joke._

"_Yea, well, I'm not completely natural. But don't let that one slip." I laid back down and my head hit the pillow. _

"_Oh and thanks, Sam."_

_There was no need to hug it out; the deed had been done. I could always count on Mike, and I hoped he could trust me the same._

_As I laid there, I day dreamed about a possible future with Mercedes. Before drifting off to sleep, I reminded myself to make it count and to not let anything get in the way of our final year together._

"You still there?"

Time really does fly by when you were having fun. Or better yet, in love. And as much as we tried to make every moment of senior year count, time still rushed by us.

"Yea, I'm still here. Listen, when you get here, I need a favor from you."

"Anything man. I'm merging on to the Lima exit right now. I'll see you."

After my conversation with Mike, I didn't know where to go from there. I then realized that Mercedes and her mom had been gone for a while. It had almost been an hour since they'd left the room and they'd yet to return.

James seemed restless, so I decided to take him outside to walk around. I pushed through the double doors towards the exit.

As I passed the waiting room near the elevator, I found myself unable to move. His broad shoulders and intimidating stature were hard to miss. His back was facing me, but I was sure that it was him. Grasped around his neck was a pair of hands that I was accustomed to holding at one point in time. His arms were around her waist and I could only see the top of her head that was rested on his shoulder.

Mercedes and Greg stood there embracing each other in the middle of the waiting room.

There wasn't time to figure out what was going on, I just didn't want to be seen. Seeing the two of them together did horrible things for my stomach. The elevator light flashed indicating that it had made it to my floor. Just before the doors opened, James started barking frantically. We gained the attention of everyone on the floor, _including_ Greg and Mercedes.

She rushed towards me and Greg followed in suit.

"Hey, I was just about to come back to the room—wait, were you going somewhere?" Her cheeks were stained with tears. She had been crying again, but she was trying to hide it.

Greg and I were grilling each other with our eyes and I hadn't heard her second question.

It hadn't even been two days and he was already crawling back to her. I wasn't even close to calling Mercedes mine again, but it pissed me off that he thought he could get her back so easily. But then again, I had tried the same thing a month ago. And I had been gone for six years. I was a hypocrite for being upset, but I couldn't shake this feeling.

"Sam! I asked how my dad was doing when you left the room!" Mercedes exclaimed, jolting me out of my haze.

"He was good. He had started to nap when I left."

"I think I'll go sit with him, if that's okay?" Greg was staring into Mercedes' eyes and it made me want to vomit.

As I bowed my head, my eyelids shut tight. I was secretly hoping that he wouldn't be there when I opened my eyes, but my wish wasn't granted. I opened them to another embrace between the two. He tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and placed a kiss on her cheek. He nodded to me after Mercedes told him what room it was, and he was on his way. The air was much lighter after his departure, but I still couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in my stomach.

"So you were going to leave?" The intensity in her eyes was enough to make me flinch. Her question startled me.

"I was just going to take James outside, that's all—."

"Were you going to come back?"

The answer to this question was up in the air. Was I going to come back? Greg was obviously back and he didn't look like he wanted to let Mercedes out of his arms again.

"Well that depends on if you want me to stay." I returned softly, my eyes locking with hers.

Her eyes widened before she raised her hand to massage her temple. I was certain that Mercedes was a deeply annoyed and her face reflected it without a doubt.

"You're really testing my patience, Sam," she said in a tired voice.

"Well, it's clear that you don't need me here anymore. Greg can handle it from here." I tried pushing past her but her grip was strong.

"Don't you dare start up with that again—Sam, I don't get you!" I finally made my way past her and started walking away. Mercedes ran forward and pushed the elevator button so that it would go the opposite way. She crossed her arms on her chest and shook her head in disappointment.

"I don't get _you_, Mercedes," I mumbled shocking the both of us.

A bold tear strolled down her cheek and she didn't even try to wipe it away. I stepped closer to her hesitantly—almost closing the gap between us. She avoided my eyes but I insisted by tilting her chin up towards my face.

"I want to stay here, so much. I want to hold your hand and be there for you when you're crying." My voice broke and I couldn't stop myself from crying either. The both of us had tears falling from our eyes.

"And why can't you do all of those things?" Her eyes searched mine and an extreme feeling of déjà vu overwhelmed me. It brought me back to that night on her porch once again.

"Because you have Greg now; that's how it's supposed to be, remember?" At first I had brushed my thumb across her cheek to wipe away the tears. Now, I was just caressing her and relishing in the way her skin felt against my hand.

At the mention of his name she tensed. She pulled back from me and for a second I thought she would storm away. Instead, she held out her left hand in front of me.

For the first time that day, I noticed that she wasn't wearing her engagement ring anymore.

I swallowed a huge lump that was forming in my throat and held her hand. I couldn't take my eyes off of her hand—this moment was too surreal.

"But when?"

"I gave him back the ring just before you got here," she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Instantly, I felt like an idiot. When I saw the two of them together, I assumed that they were back together. My heartbeat increased when I realized that Greg wasn't an important factor anymore. Of course, he'd still be around due to her father's illness, but only as a family friend. As far as I knew, their relationship was over.

_Crap. _

What did this mean for the two of us? Not two days ago did she admit that I was part of the reason why Greg left. She had practically confessed that she still felt _something_. But what were the rules of this situation? I was sure that it wasn't okay to advance on a girl who had just broken up with her fiancé just minutes ago. And it definitely wasn't okay to try and pursue a relationship when the same girl's father was in the hospital.

"You've got to stop zoning out, Sammy."

When I looked back at Mercedes, she had a small smile stretched upon her face. My body tingled as I lingered on to the sound of my nickname escaping her lips. Before I could stop myself, I had her enveloped in my arms. I held on to this moment for as long as possible. I couldn't let her go this time. And I _wouldn't_ let myself walk away; no matter what.

"I'm not going anywhere, you can count on that," I said sternly. I was sure of it.

"Good," she said poking my chest, "Because I really need you right now. Granted, we have so much to work on, but I need you as my _friend_."

_Friend. _

The word didn't discourage me as much as I imagined it would. She needed me and I most definitely needed her. Scary times were ahead, but that's what friends were for.

"I also might have a tiny obsession with James, so I'm not allowing you to take him away from me," she grinned at me. The little guy was snuggled up against her feet. Something told me that James wouldn't have let me leave either.

"It must be something in the Jones blood. He fell in love with your dad too," I said laughing. James had convinced Mercedes to pick him and he was now attacking her with puppy kisses.

Her expression softened at the mention of her father. "How was the talk? I see you made it out alive."

I contemplated going into detail about the conversation that her father and I had, but decided against it. I was still taken aback that Mr. Jones had asked me to take care of her. Maybe he saw something that took me forever to see.

"Refreshing, shocking, amazing—a ton of great feelings wrapped into one. It sucks that it's taken this long, but I hope that I can build a friendship with him."

Her eyes glistened, but this time it looked like tears of joy. The smile on Mercedes' face was genuine. The girl that I knew was still in there and she was even more beautiful than before.

My mind wandered and somehow my thoughts landed on her mother. I hadn't seen Mrs. Jones since she left the room and she was nowhere to be found.

"Where's your mom? She's been gone for a while now," I pondered. I was in no rush to see the woman, but her absence was unusual. I could only imagine her excitement regarding Greg's appearance. It wouldn't have surprised me if she was trying to persuade the two to resume the wedding.

"Taking a walk somewhere, I'm sure. I told her she needed some fresh air," she paused before looking away.

"We had a talk of our own, actually." When she didn't roll her eyes or show signs of frustration, I wasn't sure if it was a good or bad thing.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Mercedes' eyes met mine again and I felt better.

"Things between my mom and I have sucked for as long as I can remember…but…after our talk to today? I feel like things are going to be alright. And I know that look, you don't have to worry." I blushed heavily.

I couldn't help that I was worried. I didn't want Mercedes to get close with her again to get let down. But Mrs. Jones was her mother, and even though I didn't care much for her, their relationship was in need of mending.

"God has a plan for me—for all of us. We're going to make it." I beamed at her words at permanently etched her entire frame into my memory. This intelligent, beautiful woman was back in my life again. I'd never take that for granted.

"We're going to make it, together. Just know that I'm here for you, okay?" She nodded as I took her hand in mine and started to walk away from the elevators.

It was far from the end; it was actually the beginning. People come and go during your life, but those who are meant to be there will stay.

Every rose had its thorn. And even if you did get pricked, scars would eventually heal. Wherever we would go, I'd be holding her hand through the good and the bad.

"Do you think the gift store would have Cincinnati Bengals merchandise? I asked abruptly.

"Oh I'm sure, but why? I thought you were a Tennessee fan?" She smirked at me. I remembered all of those Sundays I would beg her to watch games with me. She was a Bengals fan, just like her dad, but she still watched my team with me.

"Yea, but, I figured since they won today, I'd get something for your dad?"

Mercedes stopped walking and wrapped me in a hug that almost knocked the wind out of me.

"I'm so scared, Sammy. I'm so scared," she whispered in my ear. I used my free hand to rub her back soothingly. She shivered as she let more tears go.

"I know, but you have a great support system and your dad's a fighter. He doesn't plan on leaving his family anytime soon."

"I'm so glad we found a way back to each other this weekend. Even though it was a pretty intense weekend, I wouldn't change a thing. Thanks so much," her tone was soft and endearing and it only did great things for my heart.

I planted a gentle kiss on her temple. My lips were on fire due to the contact. Her soft skin was so inviting and I wanted nothing more than to kiss her all day long. But the circumstances weren't right, and in time, our friendship would rebuild itself.

As of now, all I needed was her.

"No worries; I'll look after you."

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><p><strong>Thank you so much for reading! It's been a while since I've updated and I just want to say how grateful I am for the patience. I started sophomore year in college a month ago and it's been rough. I've found it very difficult to get back into the groove of things, but I'm definitely working on it.<strong>

**I have to thank my good friend Ray for editing this! She gave me excellent feedback and helped me a lot. Thank you, doll!**

**Reviews are wonderful! I can't wait to read them.**

**Finally, there isn't a way to avoid sounding pretentious and annoying when I say this, but I am on Tumblr! I love hearing from you all. Folllow me if you would like [cdjayy[dot]tumblr[dot]com]**


	15. Turning Tables

It's been awhile! I thank you for sticking with this story and not giving up on me.

Not to confuse anyone, but the last chapter ended with a lot of unanswered questions. I answered those in this chapter, but had to go back and tell it from Mercedes' perspective.

**Disclaimer: No ownership of Glee. **

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><p>When you're five years old, your <em>parents <em>are your heroes. They haven't embarrassed you to death. You haven't had any nasty arguments with them that lead to slammed doors or heavy sighs of frustration. When you're five, your dad is the most important man in your life and your mom is your best friend. At five, being seen with your parents isn't a death sentence. In fact, being without them is a fear that keeps you up at night. When you're _that _young, your parents try their best to protect you from evil and never let anything happen to you. Together, my parents made me feel invincible. There was a time that I could do anything—_be_ anyone that I wanted to be. The world was this dark, scary place, but my mother and father were bright lights guiding me through the way. But one day, that light flickered. At a certain age—some people earlier than others—you find that your parents will not always be there for you. They'll disappoint you and you'll learn that they make mistakes just like everyone else. The superpowers that they once encompassed falter and you find that sometimes you're in this journey called life, **alone**.

I'd never forget the day that the relationship I had with my mother changed. The summer before sixth grade was both terrifying, yet exciting for me. I was no longer in elementary school—I was growing up. My pre-teen years were ending, and I was on the fast track to adulthood—in _my_ mind, that is. I had always loved dressing up for school in cute outfits. For years, my mother had picked out my clothing. And although I never disagreed with her choices, it was finally time to shop for myself. With birthday money in hand, I was ready to start a new chapter in my life, and it all started with a fresh wardrobe.

Shopping had always been fun for us—my mother and I. It was a rare bonding moment, and I always looked forward to them. After I started kindergarten, my mom went back to work, and our time together was limited. But we always had our shopping days together, and I never expected that that would change.

"Ready to get some new clothes, baby girl," My mother asked me as she held my hand. We were walking through the Lima County Shopping Center and I had the biggest smile on my face.

"I'm so excited, ma!"

We started our journey at Macy's, which had been my favorite place to shop. I stormed the store looking for deals and steals—I was on a mission. I'd found so many clothes that my mother had to help me carry them all. Eager to try on all of my clothes, I practically ran into that dressing room. Every outfit was screaming my name—I even planned on which day of the week that I would wear them. I tried on a purple dress that had ruffles and was covered in floral print. This one had been a _winner_. I could hear my mother's voice already, "_Mercedes, don't you want to wear something else_?"

And my answer would be, "_Absolutely not_!"

Disappointingly, the dress wasn't as comfortable as I'd hoped it to be. Not letting that get me down, I proceeded to try on the rest of my clothing. Outfit after next continued to tear down my self-esteem. I hadn't found one outfit that would work, and it was beginning to frustrate me.

"_Well_, are they fitting?"

I didn't need to see her face to understand that my mother was getting impatient. The embarrassment silenced me. _Nothing_ was fitting. I'd never had this problem before. I knew that I was growing up, but I wasn't prepared for the changes that my body was going through. When I didn't answer, my mother entered the dressing room to find me struggling with a button on the jeans I was trying. I'd never forget the look she gave me—a mix of sadness, disappointment, and hurt.

"I guess we'll have to move up to the Juniors section then," my mother said softly. She took the rest of the clothes with her and left. She didn't say that much to me the rest of the day, only speaking to me when she was telling me to do something. Before that day, I never questioned my physical appearance. I was accustomed to being different—never thinking that it was wrong. My mother didn't have to say a word, but I knew that she was ashamed that I wasn't skinny like the other girls in my classes. I would have rather been picked on by other kids for being thicker—not judged by my own mother.

From that day on, I seemed to keep disappointing my mother more and more. When I brought home perfect grades, she asked why I hadn't joined any clubs. Or, when I joined New Directions, she wanted me to try out for the Cheerios instead. Trying to make her happy was just exhausting. I'd almost given up on trying to satisfy her, until I started dating Sam.

While most girls wanted to keep their relationships a secret from their parents, I couldn't wait to tell my mother all about it. I remember seeing her eyes light up with joy. Finally, I had something conversation worthy—she actually _wanted_ to talk to me. My heart wept because I knew that she was happy for me—proud of me for finally doing something right. I gushed about how good he was to me and how he made me feel special. Her smile was genuine and for once, I believed that our relationship had a chance. But when I showed her the photo of Sam and I in New York, her eyes became less sincere and more judgmental in less than two seconds. The moment was over and she never spoke highly of Sam again.

When my mom met Greg, her eyes shined for days. It was sickening, really. We'd only been dating for a month, and she was already hooked on the idea of marriage. I should have been happy knowing that she was so invested in my life, but all of it was so _fake_. She didn't like Greg because he was a nice guy who cared about her daughter. She liked him because of his family's money, his ability to shoot a basketball, and because he wasn't a white boy with an Avatar obsession.

And after she'd seen me walk into the hospital with Sam earlier, it seemed as if all of the pride she had of being my mother vanished, yet again. But I wasn't concerned about my mother or her acceptance. Earlier that morning, I'd received a call that made everything else that was going on seem so unimportant.

Learning about my father's condition was unreal. Despite the recent issues I had with him, my father was always there. To me, he'd never lost his superpowers. When I felt hopeless—when I felt like no one was there for me—he proved me wrong every time. I'd never have to tell him why I was crying; he'd wipe my tears without question and make me feel better anyway. "_Just remember, you're the brightest star of them all_," he used to say.

Everything closed in around me as I stood there taking everything in. The air was so heavy that I could hardly breathe and the reality of losing my father was this _crushing_ notion that made me want to scream. He didn't deserve this—no one did. The man that used to be my protector, my _everything_, laid here weaker than ever. And as much as he tried to convince me that he'd be okay, I was terrified.

"I'm going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere before I walk you down that aisle."

The thought of it brought on yet another round of tears. Throwing my arms around his neck, I hugged him with all that I had. I couldn't—_wouldn't_ imagine my wedding day without my dad. Walking down the aisle, dancing with him, and listening to his speech at the reception were all things that I was looking forward to. Now that I wasn't getting married any time soon, I was afraid that he wouldn't be able to share those moments with me. After letting go, I felt a tug of my arm. The gentle squeeze of his hand reminded me that Sam was standing there right with me. There weren't enough words to thank him for being there. Sam and my father never established a stable relationship, and especially since he knew that he wasn't my dad's favorite person, his presence was so meaningful.

"Let's give your father some space for rest. Besides, Samuel probably needs to get going," I heard my mother say.

As much as I wanted to yell and lose my temper, I let my eyes speak for themselves. As awful as this situation was, she still hadn't found the good in her heart to accept Sam. Because of him, I'd made it to the hospital safely—Sam had insisted to drive. It was because of him that I hadn't lost my composure and attacked that nurse. Sam had been doing everything Greg should have been doing, but _he_ was nowhere to be found. Her husband was hanging on to his life, and her thoughts lingered on an irrelevant grudge that she'd been holding for years. Whatever her issue with Sam was needed to end—there were bigger problems at hand.

My father's voice broke the tension, but what he said brought a new silence upon us.

"Evans, I'd actually like for you to stay for a minute. We should talk." Since the two of them weren't close, I was just as surprised as he was when my dad asked Sam to stay and talk. It was Sam's turn to hold my hand for support.

My mother was on the brink of interjecting, but she stopped anyway. I was both clueless and nervous, but decided that it was a good thing for them to talk. Figuring that I'd have to wait until later to find out what my father had on his mind, I went to take James off of Sam's hand, but my dad convinced us to let him stay. We'd both wanted a dog when I was younger, but mom never agreed. The happiness he had when James jumped around in his lap was enough to ensure that my father wasn't broken—he was healing. And treating him like an infant wasn't going to benefit anyone.

We finally left the room and the air was still thick; I didn't want to be around her any longer.

"Mercedes, I want to talk to you."

I'd planned to find the cafeteria to give myself some time and space to think. The last 48 hours of my life had gone by so fast that I could hardly process any of it. One moment I was engaged to Greg, and the next, he had left. Then, I somehow found myself at the apartment of Sam Evans, indirectly confessing my suppressed feelings. And now, I was waiting around in a hospital hoping that I wasn't going to lose the most important man in my life.

It was the way the words slipped out of her mouth that stopped me cold. Turning to face her, her face was stained with tears. Slowly, I moved towards her, and my mother and I shared a hug for the first time in _years_. She gripped on to me for dear life, and her sobs were muffled as she laid her head in my chest. My mother didn't cry. She was a lot of things, but one thing she wasn't was weak.

"Come on, let's go get you some coffee," I whispered in her ear and rubbed her back soothingly. Even though she'd left me out to dry more than I could count, my heart wouldn't allow me to abandon her. No matter how damaged our relationship was, I wasn't going to leave my mother to cry on her own.

We sat silently in the back corner of the hospital's cafeteria. The crowd was thin—only a few tables filled in the whole room. I was battling a new headache and my throat was dry. My thoughts were running wild, and I was afraid to hear anything that my mother had to say. I couldn't remember the last time that we had a conversation that wasn't about Greg, weddings, her betraying my trust, or Sam Evans.

"I need to apologize to you," she began.

My mother took my hand and linked my fingers with hers. The tears were unstoppable; she hadn't even begun to say sorry, and I was already a wreck.

"Oh baby, you don't have to cry. It's going to be okay."

I refused to look at her face. I wasn't crying because I was sad. These tears were out of anger.

"Why now? W-why would you wait until _now_ to try and apologize to me? Ever since I was eleven years old, I've felt worthless to you. You don't get to pretend that you love me by using endearing terms and telling me that's 'it's going to be okay.' Where were you when I needed you?"

My trembling lips and watering eyes said everything. All of the walls that I'd built were crumbling down. I'd trained myself to stop getting upset with my mother years ago, but the first blow came when I found out about the dinner my parents had with Sam. Life continued to chip away at those walls, and now I was a mess.

"I'll admit that I wasn't there, and I'll apologize for basically failing as a mother to you. But you were never worthless to me. If anything were to ever happen to you…"

I laughed incredulously—untangling my hands from hers and placing them in my lap. She paused for a moment, but continued to explain anyway.

"My fears for you got in the way of me showing you that I cared. You were always so different, and that scared me, Mercedes."

"And by different, you mean fat?"

"That's _not_ what I mean at all. You are so beautiful, honey. It's just that not everyone in society believes in your brand of beauty," my mother responded with a weak smile.

I couldn't be mad at the woman for speaking the truth, but I could be mad at her for not trying to do anything about it. As a grown woman, her words had little effect on me.

"You don't think I know that by now?" I questioned her impatiently. "I needed you to tell that to the little girl in the dressing room that it was okay to look the way that she did. I felt disgusting because of you! If my own mother didn't love me, who else was going to? I felt awful, mom!"

For years, I'd kept everything bottled in. Afraid of what she'd say, I'd never expressed my discomfort in our relationship. But the bottle was open now, and there was no turning back. She finally knew about all of the insecurities that I had.

"Oh child, you have to understand that I was just frustrated with myself. I didn't want other people to hurt you," my mother responded with an edge in her tone.

"So you hurt _me_ instead."

I wasn't going to let her off easy. As much as she'd probably hoped that this conversation would fix things, it was doing the exact opposite. If she cared so much, why didn't she ever show it?

"Not intentionally. I never meant to hurt you. Parents make mistakes. We can't always be flaw free like you'd like us to be," she said with pleading eyes that hoped for me to understand.

Unfortunately for her, I couldn't understand. I couldn't understand why it took her this long to open up with me. After years of learning to live without her guardianship, she was trying to build something that I wasn't ready for.

"So what about when you made me feel like crap for being in a relationship with Sam? What about when you practically forced him to break up with me? When you lied to my face about everything—going behind my back and organizing that dinner?"

My anger couldn't be controlled. I was furious now thinking about the pain that I went through. Never understanding why he left and thinking that it was my fault. Surely, my mother wasn't completely responsible for the end of our relationship, but she played a huge role in moving it along the way.

"Sam never deserved any of the ridicule that I gave him," she said for the first time breaking our glance. My mother gripped my hand again and I could feel her cold, clammy palms.

"That was _my_ stupidity and ignorance, and I have to apologize to both of you for that. But the two of you were so young and naïve, Mercedes. When I was your age, the world wasn't ready for interracial couples. And even though times had changed, the world still wasn't ready—especially in Lima."

If Sam and I knew anything, it was that the world wasn't ready for us. But that didn't matter. _We_ were ready for us.

"You don't think we didn't know that? What would you know about dating someone outside of your race? You have no idea what we went through!"

"The hell I do, Mercedes!" Her voice was raw and dark—barely speaking above a whisper, but I heard it loud and clear. My mother began to speak, and the more that I listened, the more confused I became. The more I heard, the _less_ I wanted to know.

"Bobby Jenkins was the _only_ white boy in Allen County that didn't look at your father and me with disgust. Of course, I was in high school after way after schools had started to integrate, but the racial tension was still prevalent. You knew that your dad and I had been best friends since grade school, right?" She paused to ask me. I nodded my head slightly.

I hadn't known much about my parents' past, but I was aware that they grew up together in Augusta Peaks, which was a small town right outside of Lima.

"Well, when it was time to go to high school, our neighborhoods had been redistricted, and we had to go a school in Allen County called Barnes Oak. Out of twenty black kids in the entire school, your father and I were two of them. On average, I was always the lone ranger in my classes, if you can understand what I'm saying," she said letting out a shaky breath. My mother closed her eyes as if she was trying to shake the memories away, but she kept going.

"Going to school there was awful, but our parents didn't want to go through the trouble of transferring and schools around us were closing anyway. I hated going to school, _every_ single day. The stares that I would get haunted me at night. The girls were never violent, but they had no problem with verbal abuse. And the boys…they had no trouble with putting their hands on me."

The feeling in my stomach was painful. I just wanted her to stop talking. Sure, society had come "a long way", but racism was nowhere near being over. And when my mother was younger, it was worse—worse than anything I could ever imagine. I couldn't bear to listen without getting upset. She let several tears slip—my mother was finally letting go.

"What about Dad? Was he—did he…" I wasn't sure of exactly what I was trying to ask, but my mother answered me anyway.

"Mikey was always there to help heal my wounds—assuring me that I was beautiful. As much as he tried to protect me, they'd always come after me when he wasn't there. I even went to the principal's office once, but they reassured me that the kids were 'only messing around.'"

She told me everything about her life in high school. From the good, to the bad, I listened to my mother talk about her personal life. It was weird, if I was being honest. I'd never imagined my mother as being younger than she was now.

And as much as I enjoyed listening to her, there were still pieces of the puzzle missing. I knew she'd yet gotten to the point of this conversation.

"So, who was Bobby Jenkins?" I was nervous as I wasn't certain that I'd be comfortable with what she had to say. For the first time in our conversation, she had a smile on her face.

"Bobby…he was your typical jock at Barnes—tall, blonde, beautiful green eyes. He wore his letterman jacket loud and proud. But, he was different. He didn't look at me with hate or disgust. Bobby accepted me for me," my mother had so much pride in her when she talked about Bobby.

The moment was extreme déjà vu. Bobby was _Sam_. And my mother was me.

"The three of us, Bobby, your dad, and I were close. We'd met in Freshman English when we had to work on a project together," she paused to laugh. By the look on her face, I could tell she was reliving those days. "Your father was livid to find out that we were working together. He said_, 'I'm not working with the white boy from the suburbs_!'" She laughed even more, but her smile weakened when as she continued to tell me her story.

"When Bobby told me that he loved me during our senior year, I cursed him with all that I had. '_Don't be an asshole, Bobby Jenkins. You can't say things like that out loud. Now shut your damn mouth before you get yourself killed!'_" She laughed as she mocked herself.

"Where's Bobby now, mom?"

"He just couldn't keep his mouth shut," her voice was dull and I couldn't detect any emotion. She stared straight ahead for a while—lost in this world where I couldn't help her.

My mother could barely keep her composure as she recalled the events of the last day she'd seen Bobby. It was a normal day at Barnes Oak High School, until Bobby Jenkins basically called for his "death sentence" as she called it.

"I begged for him to let it go, but he wouldn't. It was just another idiot—he wouldn't leave it alone."

"_You're a dumb, ugly, __**stupid **__nigger, and no one's ever going to love you_," _Alex Kramer said as he had Alicia Bayer pinned against the lockers. Everyone was watching, but no one was doing anything—just like any other day. His breath was hot against her neck and his hands were strong around her wrists. The pain was unbearable, but she refused to let him win. She wouldn't let him see her cry. She prayed to God that he would just go away so she could go home._

_Alex went flying and hit the lockers on the other side of the locker. All Alicia could see was her childhood friend Michael Jones struggling to keep Alex on the ground before Bobby Jenkins pulled her into a strong embrace, places soft kisses on her temple. _

"_It'll be okay, baby. I'll never let anyone hurt you again. I'll never let anyone hurt you again," Bobby whispered to Alicia before he pulled away to address the small audience that had gathered in the hallway. _

"_You guys just sat here and watch him harass her? Like it was some show?" He yelled at his fellow peers that were looking at him in disgust._

"_You're going to regret this, Bobby. You should run before Mayner and his buddies get here," said Chris Williams, a junior football player who usually didn't partake in the bullying, but never stopped it either. _

_Derek Mayner, one of the school's biggest football players and one of the most racist, was not going to be happy when he heard that Bobby was comforting Alicia openly in the hallway. And he most certainly wasn't going to be happy when he saw what Bobby did next._

"_Mayner can go to hell for all I care. If any of you put a hand on her again, I'll kill you." Bobby's eyes were dark as he threatened the people in the hallway. As he turned back to Alicia, she was still shaking in fear and embarrassment. She wanted nothing but to get out of there as fast as possible. _

"_I love her," Bobby declared loudly facing his crowd once more. _

"_Bobby—don't do this," Alicia pleaded. She knew that this would only lead to bad things. _

"_I love you, Alicia. I love you," he whispered before planting a soft, slow kiss on Alicia's lips. Her heart stopped because somehow, she knew that this was the last time she'd see or speak to Bobby Jenkins, ever again. When he pulled away, she took in everything about him. She'd never forget his scent, his eyes, his hair, or his smile. _

_Alicia never got to say it back, but she loved Bobby too. Before she could tell him, he'd been whisked away from her. Michael ran to her side—catching her before she collapsed to the ground in sobs. _

"_They're going to hurt him, Mikey. We need to do something!" Alicia pleaded, but Mikey wouldn't let her go. _

"_We just have to pray, Alicia. Bobby wouldn't want you to go out there doing anything stupid."_

"_Like what he did was remotely a good idea—we have to stop them!"_

_The hallway was empty with the exception of Alicia and Bobby. By the time they'd left the school, there was nothing left to see. And Bobby was nowhere to be found._

"Even from the inside, we could hear the yelling. I begged your father to let me go, but he just held me tight. To this day, he regrets it," she said still staring into space.

By the time I'd finish listening to my mother's story, I could hardly breathe. Bobby Jenkins died that day and my mother's and father's best friend was gone. The guys who beat him up didn't beat him to death—it was the heart condition that he'd never said anything about.

"The kid played football, basketball, and tennis. He was in great shape! No one knew. And even though he was sick, we still blame ourselves for what happened."

She finally turned back to face me. My heart wept for my mother. She'd never had anything against Sam; she was truly scared for me—for the both of us. She'd never dated Bobby, but she'd seen that the world wouldn't have approved of it if she'd gotten the chance to do so.

"It wasn't anyone's fault. No one could have saved Bobby," I tried to reassure her.

"Yea, I know—finally I can actually believe that."

She looked towards the ceiling and smiled. Somehow, I knew Bobby was smiling down on her—proud that she finally stopped blaming herself.

"I feel like Bobby was put in both me and your father's life to help us learn something, and somewhere along the way I forgot everything that he taught me—especially when it came to raising you. I know you're not a little girl anymore, but I still want to make things right."

Overwhelmed, I had to think before I spoke. Although it felt like forever, my mother and I had only been sitting there for forty minutes. In those forty minutes, she'd acted like a mother to me more than ever, but I still wasn't sure about developing a relationship with her again. Bridges had been burned between us beyond repair. I couldn't deny that I was happy that we'd had this talk, but there was still room to grow. I refused to let myself get that close to her so soon with the fear of her hurting me once again. My mother had let me down so much in the past—I felt crazy for even thinking about giving her another chance—but today had only reminded me that life was shorter than we often wanted it to be.

"Mom, we've had our differences. And you've hurt me…a lot. So you should understand why I'm not so quick to fall back into the role of being your daughter," hesitantly I began.

"But, I think we're going to be okay. We still have a lot to talk about, but, this is a start."

She rose slowly from her spot and held her arms out to me. For the second time that day, I held my mother. We were far from where we needed to be, but hopefully someday we would be.

As we stood there, my mother searched my eyes so intensely that I had to look away.

"I want to let you know that I _love_ your father," she gripped my chin so that our eyes could meet again.

She'd answered the question that I didn't want to ask. The love that Bobby Jenkins had for my mother was strong, and I was certain that she returned those feelings. The thought of her settling for him was devastating.

"The both of us loved Bobby, and we miss him—I don't regret _one_ day being married to your father, okay? These twenty-eight years together have not been easy, but we've made it. If we make it through this, we'll be alright," she spoke softly.

Relieved, I nodded my head. Her eyes were reassuring. Although she had betrayed my trust before, if I was going to start the healing process, I had to start somewhere. We shared one last hug, and she was on her way.

After she left, I found my way to the waiting room. I sat there for a few minutes trying to accept everything for what it was. My life wasn't anything like I'd foreseen it to be. I had to focus on putting back the pieces of my life together, but I honestly didn't know where to start.

My mom mentioned that she was going to make calls to the family before we parted ways which reminded me to check my phone. I wasn't surprised to see the number of notifications that had collected over the last hour and a half. Over 100 missed calls and texts had blown up my phone from Kurt, Tina, Quinn, and a ton of family members. Within 15 minutes, I'd responded to everyone, letting them know that everything was going to be alright.

Not realizing how exhausted I was, I'd drifted away into a much needed nap.

"Mercedes?"

I heard a deep voice call my name. As my eyes fluttered open, his tall frame was a mystery to me. I focused a little bit more only to find Greg standing before me. He looked _awful_. His eyes were red and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days. We stared at one another for a moment without any words. I felt as if I was in the presence of a stranger.

"I would have been here sooner, but…" his voice cracked and despite his height, Greg shrunk to the size of a miniature doll. He pulled me up into an embrace and I felt my breath run short. Never relaxing into our hug, I pulled away quickly, happy that it was over.

"Before your mom called, I was freaking out. He hadn't felt bad in so long. I just can't believe this is happening."

His hazel eyes bore into me. Greg and my dad had always gotten along, and I knew that this was hurting him too. And given the situation, I should have been able to let my anger go, but I was pissed.

We were both standing there awkwardly, and I couldn't bring myself to talk. I couldn't find any words that would work. Just yesterday he'd walked out of my life and now he was back waiting for me to say something—anything to him.

"Are you going to be okay—what?" He'd stopped talking when I held out my hand in between us.

"Why are standing here talking to me?"

"Come on," he said, but I cut him off once again.

"No," my voice was stern, "_you_ walked out on _me_. When you made that decision to go, you ended this."

"Are you telling me that I wasn't right? I know you went to find him!" He yelled, gaining the attention of others waiting in the waiting room. Aggravated, I yanked him away and lead the both of us out of the waiting room and down a hallway where we could talk privately.

"This has nothing to do with Sam," I said finally letting his arm go. I crossed my arms, glaring at my ex-fiancé.

"Look me in the eye and tell me that you still don't have feelings for him," Greg responded gruffly. The silly, light-hearted guy that I once knew was slowly slipping away. I searched his eyes for any resemblance of the Greg I knew, and I was heartbroken when I couldn't find him.

"I'll admit that I went to go see Sam in Tennessee after you left."

Greg rolled his eyes and I had to resist from smacking him upside the head.

"After you'd left, I had to go and figure some things out, and I ended up there. But even if I did still have feelings for him, it wouldn't be any of your damn business because _you walked out on me_," I growled, punctuating those last words.

Greg slid down the wall and sat on the ground. Reluctantly, I sat down next to him, and we sat there in silence.

"Don't blame him for this, okay? If Sam hadn't come back that day—"

"Then we'd still be together," he said softly, placing his hand in mine. As I looked at our hands together, I realized how wrong he was.

"I _don't_ think you're right," detaching our fingers I continued, "In a twisted way, all of this was just God telling us that we weren't right together."

The air between us was suddenly comfortable. I didn't need to look at him to know that he agreed. As much as we both wanted it to work, somewhere down the line, we'd be miserable if we'd gotten married to one another.

"Are you sure I can't do anything? What if I played you in a game of basketball? I'll play you for your heart," he joked. I couldn't hide the smile that was forming. Referencing his favorite movie Love & Basketball, I knew that I hadn't completely lost him.

When he stood, he offered me and hand and pulled me off the floor.

We fell in step and made our way back to the waiting room. Almost forgetting that I had it, I dug through my purse, knowing that it was time to give it back.

"I should give this to you," I said handing him the box that contained my engagement ring. I'd taken it off last night, confirming that I'd never put that particular ring on my finger again.

"So, this is really it?"

My short nod answered his question and he let out a heavy sigh. Giving me a friendly smile, Greg swept me up in another hug. This time, my shoulders didn't tense up and I relished the embrace.

"I don't ever want to lose you as a friend, Mercedes," he whispered before letting go. The words had my eyes misting again. As healthy as it would be for us, it still hurt to end our relationship.

We shared one more look before I heard the familiar bark of a puppy that I'd recently become good friends with. When I turned to look, I almost missed the back of his blonde head.

Rushing towards the elevator with Greg following suit, I called out for him.

"Hey, I was just about to come back to the room—wait, were you going somewhere?"

Sam looked like he was on a mad dash out of the hospital. If James hadn't of let their presence be known, he probably would have been well on his way out of here.

"How's my dad doing?" I tried again, since he hadn't answered my first question, but he failed to hear me. Sam and Greg were busy sizing each other up, and I was getting more impatient by the second.

Greg finally left to go pay my dad a visit, leaving me alone with Sam and James.

"So were you going to leave?"

He was caught off guard by my question, but answered nonetheless. After explaining that he was only going out to take James for a walk, I found it hard to believe him. I couldn't blame him for wanting to leave, but I'd be lying to myself if I said that I was ready for him to go.

"Well that depends on if you want me to stay."

If it had been any other day, I might have thought his insecurities were sweet, but I was tired. The more he talked, the more fed up I became. Who was he to say what I did and did not need?

He tried to get away, but he wasn't going anywhere until he heard what I needed to say.

"Don't you dare start up with that again—Sam, I don't get you!"

He'd pushed past me and made his way towards the elevator. Moving as fast as I could, I beat him there, pushing the elevator so it'd go the opposite way. I could tell that he was aggravated, which only made me believe that he _was_, in fact, trying to leave and not look back.

"I don't get _you_, Mercedes."

The simple statement shocked me and I found myself letting yet another tear fall. The number of times I'd cried that day was infinite, and I was truly over it. It hurt me to know that Sam didn't think I needed him anymore.

Listening to him talk about how he wanted to hold my hand when I cried—to make sure that I'd be okay—made me realize how much I wanted it to happen. When I asked him why he couldn't do all of those things, I knew he had visited a place in his mind that he wasn't fond of.

"Because you have Greg now; that's how it's supposed to be, remember?"

In an instant, I felt like I was seventeen again. The words of his letter were burned into my brain. I'd called him the next day to tell him that he was wrong, but he never got to hear it straight from me.

It had all happened so soon that I hadn't had the chance to talk to him about it. Holding out my left hand in front of me, I braced myself for his reaction. When he took my hand, I honestly didn't want him to let go. He was shocked, to say the least. The confusion upon his face almost made me laugh. I explained to him that I'd given it back to Greg just before he'd seen us together. Everything was coming together slowly, but surely in his mind. I grinned when stared off into space, curious as to what he could have been thinking.

"You've got to stop zoning out, Sammy." My tongue burned as his nickname rolled off of it so easily. He took me in his arms and I laid my head against his chest. His heartbeat was strong and steady. For some reason, I needed to hear the thumping of his heart to make sure all of this was real.

He told me that he wasn't going anywhere, and I was glad to hear him say that.

Poking his chest, he smiled down at me. "Good," I said. "Because I really need you right now. Granted, we have so much to work on but I need you as my _friend_."

Being vulnerable with him again was going to be scary. I had no idea how I was going to rebuild relationships with both him and my mother, all while trying to stay positive as my father underwent treatment. I had a long road ahead of me, but I knew God was watching over me.

"I also might have a tiny obsession with James, so I'm not allowing you to take him away from me," I laughed, trying to relieve the tension. I picked him up and he was quick to shower me with love.

I was pleased to know that my father had made things right with Sam. I'd yet to talk to him myself, but I couldn't bear another heart-to-heart that day. I chose not to tell Sam about what my mother and I discussed that day. She'd insisted that she'd be apologizing to him soon and one day, when my mother was ready, she'd tell him the story of Bobby Jenkins.

"God has a plan for me—for all of us. We're going to make it."

Before we went back to my father's room, we took a trip to the gift store to find something for my dad, who Sam also claimed to be his new best friend.

* * *

><p>I'd been at the hospital for hours and my body was calling for some serious sleep. Mike had come to take James from Sam, who had asked him to take the little guy to the Evans' household. He hadn't said anything, but I was certain that Sam was having separation anxiety without man's best friend.<p>

Friends and family, including Tina and Kurt had stopped by throughout the day. They were pleased to know that with treatment, my dad was going to get better. With both Sam and Greg there, I couldn't talk to my two best friends as much as I wanted, so I promised girl talk to the both of them at a later time.

It was now 9:00 at night, and we'd stepped outside to leave. Everyone, including Greg, had left, and now it was just me, my mother and Sam. My mother, who convinced me that she'd be okay, ordered me to go home and attempt to get some rest.

Greg, who had moved his things to his parents' home in Cincinnati, insisted on me staying at the house until we figured out what we would do with it. Our home that his parents bought us after college was massive, and there was no need for us to keep it now.

I smiled at Sam, thanking him once again for all he had done that day.

"For the millionth time, you're welcome, _Miz_ Jones," he smirked playfully.

"Sorry, I just want to let you know how much I appreciate your help today. Without you, I would have been a bigger mess than I already was."

"No problem, lady. I told you I was here for you."

The air was cool and crisp outside; the autumn weather felt amazing on my skin. When I looked over at Sam, my conscience was yelling at me. _You know this isn't right._

"Sam, I think you should go home." I squeezed my eyes shut, knowing that I was playing with fire.

Sam stopped walking, which caused me to stop as well. We stood there facing one another in the hospital parking lot. It just wasn't sitting well with me.

"I shouldn't have asked you to stay; that was selfish of me," I said honestly.

"I said I'd be there for you. What part of being your friend don't you understand?"

His smile was sincere, but I could see that he was confused. I know I had said that I wanted him to stay, but to take him away from his life in Wentworth made me feel guilty.

"Sam, I can't make you put your life on hold. I'm sure you have a job to get back to," I said realizing that I didn't even know what he did for a living.

I didn't know _anything_ about him anymore. As much as I wanted Sam to be the Avatar loving, silly dork that was once the love of my life, I knew he'd changed. Sam and I both changed—which was why he couldn't stay here in Lima.

"My life has been on hold, Mercedes. As crazy as it sounds, this is this first time in a long time that I've felt like I was living."

"Sam, look…"

"It's really not that big of a deal. I can stay at my parents' house before finding my own place—you know I miss them like crazy."

Before I protest again, he stopped me. His green orbs were magical. His eyes were so gorgeous that it was unreal.

"Just think of it as me finding my way…again. This is where I need to be," he said looking up at the stars. "And it helps that you're here too."

His smile gave me chills, but I wouldn't go down that road. Six years later, he still had the ability to tilt my world on its axis. We just weren't ready to make it back to that place yet.

"Come on, let's get you home."

He looped his arm through mine, and we made our way to my car. Insisting that I was okay to drive, he tossed me the keys. As we made our way to visit the Evans' household, for once, I couldn't see what the future had in store for me—and for once, that was simply okay with me.

* * *

><p>I wish everyone a happy holiday season! Once again, thank you so much for continuing to read. I have to apologize for the amount of time it took for me to update. I will not be making this a habit, so thank you once again for being patient.<p>

:)


	16. Let The Flames Begin

A/N: Thanks for staying with me, y'all! It means so much to me to still see those story alerts! I have a few things to say, and then you're welcome to read the chapter :) I've recently been editing previous chapters for my sanity. I'm grateful for those that have reading since the beginning because I was in desperate need of improvement back then. (Not saying that I appreciate all of my readers, all of you rock!) I started to write this story before I could tell you what Samcedes meant to me. I've grown up a bit since June, and now these two have become a part of me. Anyway, I've been going through and trying to get rid of those nagging errors because they've been bothering me. I'm not done editing the entire thing, but I'm on my way. No worries though! The story is the same. It should be easier to read now, is all.

Also, I'm going to write some Samcedian Valentine's Day One-shots starting February 1st! I have some ideas, but you're welcome to send me prompts via PM! Other than that, I just have to thank you all for reading. Happy Glee day! Tonight should be interesting :)

**Disclaimer: No ownership of Glee.**

* * *

><p>The car ride to my parents' house was silent with the exception of music being played on the radio. Stevie Nicks was on—reminding me of that one Glee club lesson gone wrong during high school. It was funny, really. Thinking back on it, that was before Mercedes and I even knew one another. She was just a member of the Glee family then. Now, she was so much more than that. She was…well, <em>I<em> didn't know what I meant to her, but to me, Mercedes Jones was that breath of fresh air after being stuck inside all day. After years, her aura had stayed the same—refreshing, bright, and always pulling me in. Being in her presence was all that I needed.

Truth be told, all I could think about was how happy I was that she hadn't lost her father that day. I couldn't help but think that this was only God's way of telling the Jones family that they still had time to get it together, but that they'd better start now. I was hoping that today would be the end of their troubles—at least for a little while.

"What are you smiling for?"

The question caused me to strike a bigger smile. The car had stopped at a stoplight and Mercedes had caught me staring off into space again.

"I have to be smiling for a reason?"

I looked over at her to see that she was giving me a smile that was ever so radiant.

"No, I'm just…," she hesitated. "It's good to see you smile."

The warmth of her hand was comforting. I tried to get rid of that fluttering in my heart, but the feeling was concrete.

"Likewise…I hope from now on, all you'll do is smile around me. I've missed this."

It may have been overstepping boundaries, but it was how I truly felt. I should have known Mercedes and I weren't on the same page yet. I definitely didn't miss the shift in her eyes and the sudden tension between us.

My hand longed for her touch as she untangled our fingers and put her focus back on the road. Besides the simple directions of finding my parents' neighborhood, the rest of the drive went without words.

The car parked up against the curb—when I hadn't left the car, Mercedes cut the engine with a shaky breath. The bold tear sliding down her cheek alarmed me, and she must have sensed my anguish because she spoke first.

"It's fine, honestly. I'm just being a girl." Her smile was different this time. She looked past my head towards their home—there was no explanation needed.

"You never got to see it, did you?"

We "got back on our feet" during my senior year, but we still didn't have a home to call our own. The small apartment near the school was only temporary. Our relationship had been long over when my parents made their first down payment on the house that stood before us. Before I moved back to Wentworth, I'd helped my family move into this home—a day we'd never forget.

"Come in for a second, I'd be son of the year if I brought you home to the parents." The both of us ignored the fact that I'd put my foot in my mouth, once again.

"I couldn't intrude, Sam—it's late! They probably don't remember me—what?"

Her statement was funnier than she intended it to be. There wasn't one conversation I had with my family that didn't lead to discussing Mercedes—especially after the move back to Tennessee. Of course, I hadn't said more than how I was doing in the last month. Her engagement, or lack thereof, would be news to them whenever that topic came about.

"Trust me, they remember you. If you don't come in, and they find out that you were with me? You'll be putting out a search warrant for me! This is serious business, Mercedes."

Her giggle was nothing less than adorable. I wasn't exaggerating, though. My mom tried to mask her sadness, but it was clear that she missed Mercedes being around the motel after the break-up. My dad probably held a secret grudge against me being that he and Mercedes would talk sports non-stop whenever she was in his company. Stacey and Stevie almost shunned me for an hour at the news, but I won them over with impressions. The love they had for Mercedes was ridiculous, but sweet nonetheless. Other than being the amazing person that she was, she made a huge impact on our family. Whether it was helping with babysitting or bringing by sweets she'd made herself, every little thing reduced the depressing feeling of being boxed in at that motel.

My puppy dog eyes were a game changer, and I knew I'd won once she'd playfully shoved my head and opened her door. We kept our distance walking up the pathway until I leaned in to lower my voice.

"Do me a favor and hide from the door. I want to have some fun with this," I said rubbing my hands together. Her arched eyebrow told me that she was suspicious, but she went with it anyway.

Before I lifted my hand, I raised my index finger to my lips as a reminder to keep quiet. I'd barely knocked twice before the door swung open. The smile on my face immediately vanished. My mother stood in the doorway with a hand on each hip equipped with an icy glare-she was _not_ happy. Even as I towered over her 5'1" frame, her ocean blue eyes still had the power to shrink me down to the size of a puppy.

Before I had the chance to explain, my mom took me by surprise. Her tiny arms were clinging to my neck for dear life.

"I missed you too, Mom," The laugh that escaped my lips was hefty. Once she let go, the cold eyes returned, and I was certain that I'd have a bruise on my neck.

"You pay _how_ much for a phone every month and you can't even check to see that your mother's called?" The impact of her hand to my head was playful, but it still hurt!

"Mom! I'm sorry-"

"Are you alright?" She cut me off. Her hard shell had melted away and worry replaced anger.

"I'm fine, but-"

"Mike only told me what he could when he dropped James off," my mom interrupted me once again. At this rate, she'd never know what happened.

"And _Mercedes_! How _is_ she? Oh my goodness, I-"

"Mom!"

I placed both hands on her shoulders. She was breathing heavily and shaking-a sign that she was _way_ past over the edge. Her eyes popped for a second while her cheeks reddened.

"I'm here now-in _one_ piece. I'm sorry about not checking my phone earlier. I know how you worry, but I'm here now," I paused to wait for a reaction, and when she gave me a tiny smile, I enveloped her in another tight hug.

"You still haven't told me about Mercedes!" She mumbled into my chest. "How's her dad?"

She pulled back and sadness flashed across her face.

"_Well_, why don't you ask her yourself?"

Her confusion was hilarious and completely worth it. And once I stepped to the side, her bright face broke the levy of laughter. She practically tackled Mercedes to the ground, who was shocked nonetheless. Looks were deceiving; my mom packed a powerful punch.

Almost five minutes had gone by, and Mercedes and my mom continued to hold one another. Tears streaked both of their faces. They hugged once more. The watery smile Mercedes had-it cut me deep. Keeping it together had always been her strongest suit. She was independent and strong. Mercedes was the epitome of doing bad all by herself, but now, her heart was yearning for a hand to hold.

"Sam?" A tiny voice caused me to turn around, and just like my mom, my youngest sibling Stacey was a warrior despite her size. She jumped into my arms, proving how much older the both of us had gotten.

"Finally! I _told_ Stevie you'd pull through this time," she said reaching up to ruffle my hair.

It was a regular thing between us, like a handshake. Only this time. I didn't have to bend down for her. Going into her freshman year in high school, Stacey was fourteen now. Her long, golden hair, tall frame, and eyes identical to my mother's, made me realize that I'd be beating the heads in of horny little ass-wipes _very_ soon.

Without warning, my ears were suddenly begging for mercy. The sound that emerged from Stacey's mouth was something only fit for a dog's ears. From the speed at which she took off behind me, I knew she'd spotted her.

Once again, there was no time to react because I struck again. Stevie ran into me, full force, and succeeded at knocking me down. The kid had me in a headlock, while James' tongue licked the side of my face. Nothing but laughter surrounded me. The pain from hitting the ground was gone once my kid brother's face appeared.

"About time, big head!" He released me for a second, which was always his biggest mistake. It was my turn to take charge and pin him down.

James' high pitched barking indicated that he wanted to play too. He gnawed on Stevie's side, which instead of hurting him, Stevie fell into a fit of laughter.

"That tickles," he gasped for air.

"Come on, don't let that old man beat you!" Stacey encouraged him. I looked up to give her a look when my breath got caught in my throat. Mercedes was sandwiched between my mom and Stacey. All of them were amused-their laughing was like a song I would never get tired of hearing.

My brain got cloudy and emotion washed over me as I stared at three of the most important women in my life.

"_Alright, who started the party without me?_"

His familiar, booming voice had me off the ground in record time. My father lifted me off my feet with a hug that said everything. Being the man that he was-comedic and always smiling-getting emotional didn't come easy for him. So the extra squeeze he gave me said more than he ever needed to.

The front porch of my family's home was now a party. About twenty different conversations were going on, and Mercedes-_bless her_-couldn't catch a break. And she thought I was exaggerating when I said they missed her.

"How about we take this inside?" I tried my best to project over the noise, but it was a failure. Mercedes caught my eye for a second and snickered. It took a few more minutes and me physically prying Stevie away from Mercedes to get us all in the house. Everyone crowded into the living room, where we all sat comfortably.

Mercedes sat in my Dad's special La-Z-Boy-courtesy of my dad himself. The Energizer bunnies, Stacey and Stevie, sat right in front of her on the ground. My parents shared the love seat that was adjacent to their flat screen television, while James and I lounged together on the couch.

Happiness filled the air. The conversations were endless. And although my brother and sister were much older and understanding than what they used to be, we all silently agreed to keep the day's events under wraps. As for Mercedes and I, we would keep the entire weekend's agenda on the down low until further notice. The both of us were accustomed to hiding our emotions for the sake of others.

I was trying my best to keep up with conversations. They hadn't seen Mercedes in years, so I wasn't hurt that the focal point wasn't on me. Who could blame them? It was Mercedes Jones.

The last I heard was Stacey vividly recalling her last soccer game during soccer camp when she scored the winning goal. She explained that one of teammates was a "hater", which resulted in another round of jovial laughter and cackling.

The details of her comedic story faded away as I drifted away into a day dream. The warmth of the situation was overwhelming. The memories of being cramped in a hotel room-having all of your belongings slowly slip away-were fresh and piercing. I'd always had this respect and high regard for my parents. They were my superheros. They did everything they could imaginable for us. They were stern, yet approachable. Mom and Dad had this light about them that was constantly shining. Even in that motel room, they made sure we never saw them falter. It was only at night that I would hear their tears or worrisome confessions.

The economy put us through hell, but as a family, we made it. For years, they'd been living well in their Suburban home here in Lima, but I was certain that the fears of losing everything again would never go away. Like a magnet, I was drawn to the stares of my parents. I'd been caught day dreaming and both gave me knowing glances.

"Earth to Sam? Wow, _some_ things never change." The voice came from my one and only smart ass of a kid brother. At sixteen, he'd definitely grown into his own person. He'd be a junior this year, which secretly made me nervous and proud at the same time. Whenever I looked at him, I could see little specks of myself. Although I'd like to think I'd done right by him, I had to remember that he still had so much to learn-so much time to screw up like most teenagers. He was an Evans man, after all, which meant that he was passionate, headstrong, and good-looking-a recipe for disaster.

"If I didn't miss you so much, I'd wrestle you again, and beat you this time." My cocky attitude turned into loud, but playful shouting match. James crawled into my lap with his paws over his ears-it was time for the little guy to get to bed. I cradled him like the baby he was, while ignoring the teasing of my family. My father would never let me live down the hour conversation he had with me while James had his first visit at the vet. He'll take it to the grave that I cried, but I'd never admit it.

"I'm ignoring all of you right now," I said without looking up.

Ten minutes later, James was a goner, and I could feel the energy level of the room dropping by the second. It was 11:00 on a school night, and if I knew my parents, our time with the kids would be cut short soon.

"Mom, please let us stay up!" Stacey begged-even she knew it was coming. But there was no bargaining when it came to my mother. My parents were fair most of the time, but then again, they _were_ parents.

"Silly, silly girl! Say goodnight to Mercedes and your brother!"

The groans left my mother satisfied as she received a peck on the cheek from my father. Stacey and Stevie stalled as long as possible before they were officially sent to bed. Stacey clung on to Mercedes' neck until she promised she would visit again soon. Stevie and Mercedes had to do their handshake multiple times-he was a perfectionist and had to get it right.

Once they were gone, I was prepared to say goodnight to Mercedes. I could tell that she was tired, and I was fighting to keep my eyes open as well.

My parents had other plans.

"So, should we take this conversation into the kitchen?" Mercedes was caught off guard by my father's question, but agreed with a short nod. If I knew my parents, we were going to be up for a little while longer.

I hadn't expected the impromptu chat session with my parents, Mercedes and I. Before we settled at the dining room table, my body acted on its own and discreetly squeezed Mercedes' hand.

My father was one of Mercedes' biggest fans—he adored her. He was quick to gush over what an "elegant, young woman" she'd grown up to be. Her cheeks were on fire, I'm sure, but she gratefully accepted the compliments.

"Thank you, Mr.—Chris. I've missed you all so much. To be honest, I was a little nervous about stopping by," she paused. "That maybe you all wouldn't remember me."

The laughter in the room startled her. For some reason, I could see my parents breaking Kid Law very soon. Their first offense? Embarrassment.

"Are you kidding?" My dad was so baffled that he kept on with that ridiculous cackle.

"Oh honey, even if we tried to—which_ wouldn't_—Sammy would never let that happen." My mom nodded encouragingly.

But of course, Kid Law didn't apply to my parents. I guess they failed to take that course when they went through Parent Training. Okay, so maybe those Mercedes based conversations began with how much I missed her, but they didn't have to out me like this.

"Are you okay, Mercy? My mother must have filled my dad in on the latest trip to the hospital, for his expression only reflected concern and sadness.

"I'm…"

"_Not_ fine," my mom answered for her. She started her down until Mercedes looked away.

"I know we got lost along the way, but you didn't expect me to forget how you operate, huh lady?"

Her tears were unstoppable and in a matter of seconds Mercedes was pouring her heart out right there at the table. My arms went to work and made a barricade around her. The grip she had on my mother's hand was so tight that the strain was visible.

She told us how scared she was about her father and how nervous she was about rekindling things with her mother. She was close to being normal, and out of the blue, her life started to fall apart. Thankfully, the conversation of how I interrupted her engagement party never happened—a can of worms that could wait to be opened on another day.

"Honey, we are _always_ here. That door is always open for you and your parents, if need be—"

"_Yes_. We'll never be able to repay you for the gratitude you showed this family. You're an honorary Evans, Ms. Jones! Don't you ever forget it," My dad said politely interjecting my mom's statement. She was obviously overwhelmed with their love, but hopefully appreciative at the same time. I handed her a tissue to dry her eyes, while my dad caught my eye. I knew we'd be chatting sooner or later by the vibe I got from him.

"Now that Sam's back, are you gonna help us keep him here? It'd be nice to see my son more than a few times a year." My mother's feelings were still hurt by the "drop in-drop out" I committed when I was here a month ago. I groveled and begged for her forgiveness for at least a week.

When Mercedes and I exchanged glances, my mother was stunned, yet hopeful.

"Sam?"

"I thought it was time to move back? Don't worry, I'll find a place as soon as possible, but…" I hadn't even finished my thoughts and she'd tackled me for the second time that night.

When she let me go, her face fell, and my father seemed to read her mind.

"Sam, what about your job? What's Eddie going to say?" _Shit._

With everything going on in the past few days, I'd completely forgotten about Eddie and the business. Eddie was childhood friend of mine that I reconnected with when moving back to Tennessee. I did have to make a living for myself, and after I finished my courses in Graphic Design at Wentworth Community, he hired me on the spot. His web design business was up and coming and he needed a partner. Although HTML was tricky with my dyslexia, I had an eye for design, and together we made the perfect team. With investor meetings soon, I couldn't leave him at a time like this!

"Don't tell me you made this decision without talking to Eddie!"

Three pairs of eyes stared at me, and silently cursed myself for careless thinking. My parents were disappointed, but _her_ eyes? We'd only been around one another for a day or so that we hadn't had the chance to discuss my life. To be honest, my life seemed less important when I was around her. I stared back, hoping she could read my apology. This was going to be tough—I had to get out of Tennessee, but my loyalty was still with Eddie.

"Look, I'm driving back tomorrow to get some things packed and out of the way. I'll figure it out, I promise," I said so directing the statement more towards Mercedes than my parents.

"Call him first thing in the morning, Sam!" My mother stifled a yawn, which meant that our night would soon be coming to a close.

"Which also reminds me that you need to call Mike in the morning," she rose from the table, giving Mercedes another hug and kiss on the cheek.

"It's so great to see you again, missy! Don't stray too far this time—we only live across town!"

"I'll make sure of it, thank you." She beamed as my father was next in line for a hug. They said their goodbyes, and left us at the table to tackle yet another obstacle.

"It honestly slipped my mind—"

"You don't have to explain anything to me, Sam."

"But I do! We never had time to discuss my job or anything. I'm sure Eddie and I can work something out."

She hid her face in her palms and groaned—not the sign I was looking forward to.

"That's not it, okay! All of this is just happening way too fast—"

"What is _this, _Mercedes?" I used my hands to gesture between the two of us. The weekend was a blur now, and I was for sure that her declaration of suppressed feelings at my apartment just last night was only a fantasy. I wasn't one to push, but every time we took a step forward, we got knocked several feet back.

"That's not fair to ask me that, and you know it! I thought we agreed on friends." Her voice quivered, and finally she didn't stiffen as I placed my hands to sooth her arms.

"I'm trying, Mercedes. I'm trying to move on…"

"Are you? Sam, we're not 17 anymore. Sometimes I feel like you're _still there_ with us. That part of us is gone."

Deafening silence reappeared as it was hard to look her in the eye anymore. Mercedes was always strikingly blunt, but this truth bomb set off explosions everywhere.

"I should go," she moved past me as quick as she could, but I was quicker.

"I'm tired, Sam. I need rest…please." She wasn't facing me, but I still heard the pain and confusion in her voice. The stove clock reminded me how late it'd gotten. I bit in the inside of my cheek and let go of her hand. She'd only moved forward a couple of steps before turning around once more.

"Let me know how things go tomorrow, alright?"

I couldn't respond because Mercedes had made her way out of the front door. My body collapsed into a chair, and I couldn't resist banging my head against the tabletop. Where had I gone wrong? I'd only wanted to go back to the way things…_were_. Bingo. I guess I hadn't completely grasped the concept of moving forward. I had many things on my to-do list, but re-evaluating this fucked up situation was #1.

* * *

><p>I couldn't tell you how long I'd slept, but the drool on my pillow indicated that the sleep had been <em>good<em>. I must have found my way to the room that was considered mine at some point in the night.

The kitchen was ever so welcoming—a full breakfast spread out on the table, with extra treats in the microwave. There were reminder notes everywhere from my mother. I'd barely taken one bite of my pancakes when James came running towards me. No matter the surroundings, he was still the same, which meant his appetite hadn't changed either.

"We'll have to run that off, boy!" I laughed after slipping him some bacon. I assumed the universe was against my desire to eat because my cellphone rang after my second bite.

Mike's name lit up across the screen, which also acknowledged the fact that I had 4 missing alerts. One from my mother, my dad, and two from Mike—not one from Mercedes.

"What's up?"

"Thank God! I was beginning to think you left to find yourself again!" His joke was only amusing to the one telling it.

"Chill, it was a joke," he said in response to my mumbling. "Anyway, are you at your parents?"

"Yea, what's going on?"

Seconds later there was a knock on their front door, and I could already see him standing outside on the porch.

"Mike, what was the point of calling?" I groaned before hanging up. His smiling face was revealed once the door opened—I didn't know the time, but it was way too early for him to be that happy.

"Come on in," the sarcasm easily rolling off my tongue as he walked past me at the front door. By the time I'd made it back to the table, he was already cuddled up with James. The pang jealousy was only temporary—I knew James was only being nice.

"He doesn't like you, he's just trying to be nice," I joked, which earned a hearty laugh from my best friend.

"Oh? So you're a dog whisperer now?"

"I'd like to think so!" I filled him in on my plans for today, and he shocked me by offering to help.

"But why?

"I can't help out a friend?" There was no need to answer that question—his bullshit was bolded in red letters on a billboard.

"Fine, but I'll explain to you when I get there! I need some time to clear my mind."

It was unspoken, but I'd be there for the guy no questions asked. After dropping James off at the neighbor—I had to mask my uncertainty or I'd never hear the end of it from Mike—we were off. He even drove the U-Haul that my mother insisted on ordering for me.

The four hour drive was relaxing. Tuning out the world and focusing on the music was exactly what I'd needed. By the time we'd arrived, Mike had to wake me up. The sun was shining in Wentworth, but something about the place still lacked that inviting feeling.

"I'm on the second floor, apartment D! Run up and use the restroom if need be. I need to make a phone call."

Mike willingly took the keys and bounced towards my front door. I didn't have a concrete plan, but I had to talk to Eddie sometime.

The joy in his voice when he answered made it harder for me to start this conversation. At first he was confused.

"Bro, it is something I did?"

"Of course not! If I could work for you from Lima, I would. I believe in this project just as much as you do!"

I thought he'd hung up, but apparently he'd just dropped the phone.

"Sam, that's it!"

"What is 'it', exactly?"

Eddie was looking to expand, and although Lima was small, it was still another platform in which he could make a profit.

"I don't know many people that would need graphic designs, Eddie." I appreciated his offer, but we were leaping before thinking—the thing that landed me here in the first place.

"Sam, everyone needs graphic designs! And with my prices, we could do some damage up there. At least think about it, man."

"Hey, I want this to work just as much as you do. Let's keep in touch. I'm sure I'll be back periodically to completely move out."

Although he was a little distressed that I'd be leaving again, Eddie was grateful that I still had an interest in working with him. Now that that was out of the way for the time being, I had to focus on the task at hand.

Back at the apartment, Mike greeted me with a look of terror.

"Maybe I should I thought this through…it looks like we're going to be here for a while." He said glancing around my cluttered space.

"Oh yea, let's get you something to eat before we get started."

* * *

><p>For the three hours that we'd been working, Mike and I had made an impressive dent in my apartment. My bedroom was spotless, which had been the most difficult task. According to Mike, I was in the "preliminary stage" of becoming a hoarder.<p>

After our last round of packing boxes into the U-haul, in typical Mike fashion, he flopped down on the couch dramatically.

"I can't believe you have _this_ much shit, man," he complained while discarding his T-shirt. The both of us were drenched in sweat and I had the courtesy of seeing exactly how much when Mike's shirt landed on my face.

I pretended to gag, which turned into a debate on who smelled worse. We joked around, reminiscing our time at McKinley. Graduation day was a distant memory now, and all of us had taken our own paths. We'd swore up and down that we'd stay in touch, but over time, we learned how easy it was to break promises. And although friendship was a two way street, I couldn't deny that I was mostly at fault for burning bridges. After I left Lima, I tried to convince myself that my lack of communication with my friends was natural-that maybe distance didn't always make the heart grow fonder. But as much as I tried, the guilt was only stronger. I'd like to think that what I told Mercedes that night on the porch was true. Her look of disappointment was forever etched in my brain-a reminder of how much I screwed up. I'd talked about a good game about how I'd start new and find myself, but as I started down the road, I felt like I was running. I was running away from everything-my family, Mercedes, my heart. Sam Evans, the guy who everyone knew to be "loyal" and "easy going" was walking away from everything important to him like a coward.

Maybe that was why I'd stayed away as long as I did. I wasn't looking for anything particular in Wentworth-everything I needed was back in Lima. In my moment of self-loathing, I'd turned my back on the people that needed me. My biggest fear was that they didn't _want_ me back. In fact, besides my family and Mike, everyone proved me right-they didn't need Sam Evans.

At least, that's what I would tell myself to feel better about leaving. Knowing that I wasn't missed made it was easier to stay put. It made it easier to pretend that I didn't miss my friends. It made it easier to _not_ miss Mercedes. And it worked until I couldn't handle lying to myself anymore. The life I was living wasn't a life-it was this never ending cycle of pretending to be someone else. It was miserable. My one day in Lima had already been exponentially better than my six years in Tennessee.

"You should get that checked out-the whole, zoning out thing." Mike's words sucked me back in. I didn't have to be looking at him to know that he had his worried parent face on.

"How did you know I was zoning out? You're not even looking at me!" I was sprawled out on the living room floor, on my back. My eyes were focused on the ceiling. Mike was still lounging on the couch, but his eyes were closed.

"Because," he began whilst sitting up to face me. "I _know_ you. Are you ready to talk about it yet?"

I'd tried to play it cool, but Mike always saw through me. Next to Mercedes, his bullshit radar was impeccable. That, and I was annoyingly transparent.

"What are you talking about?" I still avoided his eyes because if I looked at him, I'd never be able to lie to his face. I knew what he was talking about. The two of us had been friends for way too long. It was if we'd been twins, even. If I was hurting, he felt it. If I was hiding something, he always knew. This time was no exception.

To answer his question, absolutely not. I wasn't ready to talk about how this weekend took my heart, stretching it to impossible lengths. Or how Greg left Mercedes, leaving her on my doorstep in the middle of the night. I couldn't tell him that my feelings for her were all over the place. Mike couldn't know that I was moving back for Mercedes, but I was 100% sure that he already did. And because he _did_ know, he wasn't going to force me to talk. He would let it eat away at me until I went crazy, which was ten times worse.

He huffed and stayed silent for a while. After five minutes, I figured I'd go for it. He was my best friend after all. He wouldn't judge me, and the only person I was hurting was myself.

"Mike-"

"I'm proposing to Tina."

It was so fast that I almost didn't hear, but when I did, everything else was irrelevant for the time being. Sitting up, we finally met one another's gaze.

He was serious.

I felt bad for torturing him, but it was physically impossible for me to say anything. My brain was having trouble choosing which emotion I wanted to express first. Was I confused? I didn't even know they'd gotten back together, let alone ready for marriage.

Horrified? He was another friend of mine that was moving on without me.

Or just so damn happy? We'd known it since high school-Mike and Tina were forever.

"When you went back to Wentworth, I never went back to California. I stayed in Lima."

I listened to him talk for a good thirty minutes about his rekindled relationship with Tina. It took a grovelling session and one date, and they were back. A month later, he was ready to take her hand.

"Seeing her that day," he said cautiously avoiding the topic of Mercedes' engagement party, "was this huge wake-up call. Dancing has been, and always will be my dream. But Tina...she's my life." Like a fool in love, he was grinning. The corners of my mouth tugged, and I was smiling right there with him. I was happy for Mike. If anyone deserved happiness, it was him.

He wasn't ready for it, but I pulled him into the strongest hug. We pulled away laughing until it died off awkwardly.

"Holy _shit_, man." He laughed nervously once I punched him lightly in the arm. From the look in his eyes, it was sinking in-he was going to propose. And when she said yes-if she said no, it would shock the universe-he'd be engaged. Mike was getting married! We'd always laughed when our lovely, but very interesting friend, Brittany Pierce pondered the possibility of their child's race. Time was catching up with us, and future Tike babies were creeping into our present.

"I know, I know," he stopped and bit his lip. His anxiety was becoming more evident, which was unusual for him. I knew he'd been stressing about something else. He'd spoken so confidently about spending the rest of his life with Tina.

"Be my best man, Sam." This time, I heard him loud and clear. Mike was _my_ best friend, but to know he'd thought that much of me...

"You'd be perfect! No drama-excellent bachelor party! Besides asking her to marry me, this was the easiest decision to make about all of this."

Overwhelmed. It was the only word that described me perfectly at the moment. I didn't have to think about it; I'd never pass this up. Mike was dropping surprise bombs all day. My mind was in over drive. Luckily, my excitement outweighed my disbelief.

I took his extended hand and pulled him into another embrace. Once we were apart, silence fell over us again. Words weren't needed to understand the severity of the situation.

"Let's take a drink. I'm sure I have a few bottles left in the fridge."

Over our beers, Mike and I chatted about his game plan, which included a dance flash mob in the park. Mike had already planned for his dancing friends from the west coast to fly out just for the occasion. Go big or go home, was always his motto.

The engagement talk was bittersweet. I was ecstatic for my friend, but thinking about marriage had my mind on Mercedes. Just a day ago, she was getting married. And despite all of the drama that we'd faced just hours prior, I'd come to a terrifying, yet refreshing conclusion. Just like Mike, I'd realized life without _her_ was just _sad._ I'd wait forever and jump through hoops-I was ready for Mercedes to be Mrs. Sam Evans.

We'd returned to Lima around 7 that night with a truck full of my belongings. Unloading would have to happen in the morning. I'd thanked Mike a million times before dropping him off at Tina's. He was right on time for their date night.

I returned to an empty house—the family was out at one of Stacey's soccer tournaments. Hopefully she'd forgive me for missing it with a celebratory ice cream treat. Just as I was about to doze off, my phone buzzed. I didn't think it'd be from her, so when I mindlessly scrolled through the text, my heart shot out of my body.

I didn't have to think twice about getting in my truck after Mercedes' last text. Our conversation had started simple, but now I was on the way to her house. She'd asked me how moving went, which led to sending short messages back and forth.

_**If you're not too tired, do you mind stopping by? It's important. **_

It was easy to convince myself that my suddenly increasing heart rate was due to worrying about her. She was alone in the house, and she could have been in trouble. It wasn't because I was nervous about seeing her, or anything. Our talk yesterday didn't exactly end on the best note.

I don't remember getting there, but as I stepped across her threshold, I couldn't help but seeing she was nervous too. Although she'd been the one to invite me over, it was if she was in disbelief that I'd shown up.

She walked me towards her living room-the area lacking the life that it once did. Pictures were gone, the paintings had been taken down, and boxes were stuffed off in the corner. I wasn't the only one that was busy today.

"Do you want water or anything?"

After offering me a seat on the couch, while she sat on the other end, we'd not said a word. I could feel her eyes on me-out of the corner of my eye, I saw her go back and forth before speaking to me.

Her voice was a complex piece of music. Beautiful, yet difficult to decode. It was a simple question, but both of us were aware of how tense things were. The whole "let's be friends" thing wasn't going to be a walk in the park. There weren't any distractions now. It was just me and her.

"I'll be fine," my voice croaked and I didn't miss the small smile on her face. This gave me the confidence to look at her. I took everything in-my eyes raked over her entire body. She was ready for bed soon. Hair tied up, comfy sweats, and an old t-shirt. She could wear anything and I'd still be drooling. I was ready to tell her how I felt-to just hold her. I was ready for everything with her, but I'd respect her wishes for now. She wasn't ready. She'd try and persuade me that she would be fine, but I knew she was broken.

"How's Mike?" She asked me a few beats later. I couldn't resist the smile that was growing, but Mike would kill me if I ruined the surprise. He gave me specific instructions to keep my mouth shut-especially around Mercedes. He loved her, but he wanted Tina to be completely out of the loop.

"Great! I was glad he could come along with me. We got a bunch of my stuff out..." I wasn't sure how comfortable she would be about this, but one of us had to start talking.

"I see you've been busy today," I gestured to the boxes with a head nod. Her expression didn't change at all.

"Yea, we'd eventually have to...the clutter was just a reminder...I had to start somewhere. Change, you know?" She rambled on, eventually tearing her eyes away from mine. The single tear that fell was like a bullet, and my heart felt its impact. I avoided getting too close, and handed her a tissue. Her mumbled "thanks" warmed my heart, but broke it at the same time.

We were sitting next to one another, but we'd never been so distant. There was a gaping black hole in our relationship, and it killed me that I couldn't do anything about it. The Sam Evans in me was showing, but I just couldn't fix everything like I'd always wanted to. I couldn't make her Dad get better tomorrow. I definitely didn't want to, but I couldn't erase Greg leaving her. I couldn't take back our past. We couldn't start over. Mercedes and I were stranded on our own, forced to start over. We were blindfolded-there was no road map leading us to where we needed to be. We had to figure out where to go, but that was difficult when you couldn't find the starting directions.

"Mercedes..."

"No, I'm fine. At least, I will be." She shifted her body towards mine. The electric current that went through my veins as she took my hand woke me up.

"I didn't ask you here so I could cry," she laughed dryly and gave my hand a squeeze-a squeeze that acted as a life line, keeping me alive.

"What _did_ you ask me here for?" Mercedes was hesitant, but she rose from the couch and stood before me. She twiddled her thumbs, refusing to look at me. She squeezed her eyes shut and drew in a deep breath.

"I've been doing a lot of thinking today, which probably wasn't the best thing to do with my current state of mind." Laughing nervously, she continued. I gave her my undivided attention.

"Life is way too damn short for me to be hesitant. If yesterday taught me anything, it's that holding grudges just aren't worth it. My dad always told me that, you know? I guess somewhere along the way, I forgot what was important." I truly was trying to follow her, but I couldn't pinpoint anything that was coming out of her mouth.

"Our talk last night had me thinking about other things too, Sam. Things that we've yet to discuss."

When she pulled it out of her back pocket, my heart stopped. There wasn't any explanation needed. Just looking at it brought back a flood of memories, but these memories weren't fond at all.

"You-you kept that?" There was no use in trying to stop shaking. She looked embarrassed as she nodded, which made me feel even more guilty.

"Stupid of me, right?" She examined it in her hands. It had gone through it, apparently. The paper was faded, but I'm sure every word was still legible. Every stupid word.

"I was the stupid one, Mercedes." There was no disagreement there. Her lips opened to say something else, but she decided against it. Instead, she unfolded the piece of paper, and looked back up at me.

"I thought about a lot of things today, but this," she held up the letter that I'd written just six years before,"just wouldn't leave my mind."

I stayed quiet, too ashamed of myself to say anything. "I want to be your friend again, but I feel like we can't move forward because we're stuck in the past, Sam." The way my name rolled off her tongue acting like a shot of adrenaline.

"Look at me," the sincerity in her voice was a warm blanket in the middle of winter. Once green met chocolate eyes, I found it hard to concentrate. She was just so fucking beautiful, and being friends wasn't going to be easy-whether we were stuck in the past or not.

"We were kids, and we made mistakes we can't take back. But they're locked away in this ancient vault-untouchable. I know you blame yourself for everything that happened between us-"

"Well-"

"Most of the time, it takes two to fuck up a relationship, and with us, it was no exception. If I'm being honest, for the longest time, I blamed myself. And then, I blamed you because hating you was easier," Mercedes cracked a smile, but she was completely serious.

"Now, I'm accepting that it just didn't work out. We screwed up, and lost one another as friends, and now we're sitting here acting as if we're strangers."

The sound of ripping paper was deafening. She gave me one piece, while she had the other. "The past happened, our history is basically tattooed in our souls."

She pulled me off the couch to join her, and our bodies didn't retract this time. I felt closer to her already.

"Ripping up this letter won't change the past, but it's symbolic-finally burying the crusty old hatchet. Come on, rip up your piece!" I felt her elbow jab me in the side. Her smile was so blinding-so reassuring.

As always, she'd found a way to make me feel better. Ripping up my half cracked the ice around my heart. She dumped her pieces in my hands, while bouncing over to her fireplace. After sparking the fire, she cupped some of the paper out of my hands.

"To moving on with our lives and starting fresh."

The pieces of paper burned, and I watched the fire crackle and pop before following suit. The letter was gone. That invisible tether between us already working to tie us back together again.

The mood was significantly light afterwards. We hugged for a few seconds-I still had chills from her gentle fingers sliding down my arms as we released. We watched the fire in the fireplace. Mercedes and I chatted about her college days. She danced around the subject of Greg, which didn't hurt me one bit. She'd graduated with a Bachelor's in Music Education and a minor in Music Industry.

"I want to sing again," she stared off into space. I imagined we were both thinking of the same beautiful moment. Nationals during our senior year were held in New York again, not that we were complaining. Only this time, the competition was held at Carnegie Hall. We worked our asses off for that performance, and Mercedes stole the show in her opening solo of "Aint No Way." It was a tough act to follow, but it resulted in victory. I'd never forget holding Mercedes after the show as she cried. She still couldn't believe that she'd performed in the Carnegie Hall, and now had a Nationals trophy in hand. The moment was magical.

"I won't argue with that. The world needs to hear your voice, Miss Jones." Her smile accepted the compliment with open arms. Singing wasn't the only thing that she wanted to. Mercedes had looked into going back to school, nothing major. She loved learning, and didn't see the hurt in taking a few classes at the local community college in Lima. Mercedes went on about her dreams, which included traveling and starting her own record company. The light in her eyes was a remedy that I could take everyday.

"Wow, look at me talking about myself! What about you? What dreams do you have?" Mercedes was genuinely intrigued, and I had to stop myself from giving her the answer that I truly wanted to give.

"I dream...to get out of my parents' house soon. I love them, but a grown man living with his parents isn't cute." Her roaring laughter lit up the room. She shook my head and mumbled about how I hadn't changed one bit.

I'd dodged a seriously awkward moment. I'd outgrown my shaggy blonde hair and letterman jacket, but she was right about me not changing. I was still Sam Evans, and I still wore my damn heart on my sleeve. Before throwing that letter in the fire, I'd caught my last words that I'd written. _Love Always, Sam_.

"Spending the rest of my life with you is my only dream," was on the tip on my tongue. I'd loved her then, and if anything changed, it was that I'd only loved her more.

Mercedes wasn't ready to hear it, and I probably wasn't ready to say it, but I wasn't letting her go this time. The way I saw it? I was taken, and Mercedes Jones had my heart.

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><p>Tell me your thoughts! Remember that my inbox is open for Valentine's Day prompts!<p> 


	17. Greatest Love of All

**The odds were just not in my favor last night as I was trying to post this! Goodness. Um, but hey! I'm back. It's Spring Break. Trying to do as much writing as I can :) I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I look forward to seeing what you have to say about it. Shouting out all of my talented writer friends that keep me going and inspire me always!**

**Disclaimer: No.**

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><p>Flipping through the pages of our favorite stories, we fall into a world of fantasy and make-believe. We invest our lives into these characters, creating an escape. Word by word, the chapters pass by, and eventually we take a deep plunge back into a less appealing reality. Usually, the story moves on, and so do our lives. But what happens when a permanent bookmark acts as a roadblock, keeping us in one place and nowhere to go? We lay in our own cemented pages, repeating the same lines over again, achieving nothing. What happens when someone closes the book before the story ends?<p>

Recent events had me living in a world that wasn't familiar. I had become the main character of an intense, drama-filled book series. For the longest time, I kept myself from turning the next page and continuing my _own_ book. Not only did my story stop short, but it went up in flames. Before making the decision to burn that letter, the supporting characters in my novel driven life had to guide me towards a new chapter. I needed to be brought down from the clouds to cruise towards some type of resolution.

Other than the nurse in the room, my dad had been by himself that morning. He'd convinced my mother to get a sufficient amount of rest at home, but she promised that she'd be back as soon as she was refreshed. After my eventful evening at the Evans' home, sleep did not come easy, and I found myself at Lima Community Hospital bright and early that morning.

Rebecca, his nurse, was trying her best to keep it professional, but my dad was being extra goofy that day. Everything from his smile and overall spirit, he hardly looked like a man with a heart condition.

"Your father is a _mess_, Ms. Jones. Make sure he eats his food!"

The smile she had insured me that he was in good hands, but didn't distract from the fact that he was ill. My dad was my _everything_. His superhero qualities had always been over the top—magnificent. Now his cape was tattered, and as much as he tried to deny it, his powers lacked the strength that they once held. Nonetheless, his love was just as strong.

The minute Rebecca left the room, the pout he gave reminded me of a small child's. As silly as ever, he was quick to try and persuade me to fetch him food from the cafeteria.

"Daddy, _no_." The fall of his face was quick, yet hilarious. The salad on his tray in front of him, along with the plain rice cakes and water, didn't resemble anything close to being edible.

"Here I thought you were a Daddy's girl," he harrumphed while using his fork to prod at the green leaves on his plate. The salad lacked dressing—something that he was not used to. His new diet plan and bed rest wasn't anything that my father was used to. The man who loved playing sports and enjoyed his steaks on the grill would have to adapt to this new lifestyle, fast.

"I am, and that's exactly why I'm not bring you food from the cafeteria… _or_ bringing you a burger back from the diner."

Depriving him of his favorite foods would be torturous, but beneficial in the long run. Whatever we needed to do to keep him healthy was going to be done—complaining and all.

He seemed to catch on to my thoughts. Mind reading had been a superpower that he'd picked up as I grew up. My tendencies to run away from the truth resulted in his determination of cracking the case. Unlike my mother, he was able to see through the bullshit, which only helped our relationship.

"I've missed you."

It wasn't what he said, but _how,_ that triggered the breakdown. The tears I'd shed this weekend couldn't compare to my current state. Layers upon layers of all the fear and denial built up over time had fractured. The clock ticked away—maybe five minutes or twenty—and I let it go. I wept for my dad. I wept for the years of distance between my mother and I. For Greg, and the mess that I'd made out of our relationship. My tears fell for Sam and the Evans family. I cried and prayed for a sign that my life wasn't completely wrecked—that who I really was still had a chance to be found.

Somehow, I found myself in my dad's arms. He'd made space in his bed and held me—calming the violent shutters.

"I'm scared—_so_ scared that I don't know what to do." My throat burned for relief—my voice unrecognizable as I spoke. I took his water that he offered graciously, ignoring that his gesture was partly a ploy to avoid drinking the water himself.

"You know, when you were a little girl, all of your problems were easy to fix." He muttered, planting a soft kiss on my temple.

"If it was a scraped knew, there was a Band-Aid and a lollipop. I didn't get the manual for dealing with you _after_ you moved out of my house."

We shared a look before bursting into laughter. I found a nook to rest against his chest again. With every beat of his heart, my nerves relaxed. Just knowing that he was still here—being able to snuggle in his embrace was the strength that I needed.

"You can't fix everything that I break, Dad. It doesn't work that way."

"Yes, but I can at least try to repair the things that I've broken," my dad spoke after a beat of silence. It took a split second to realize that he was no longer talking about his heart, but mine. His arms suddenly tensed around me, and as much as I enjoyed our utopian father-daughter moment, the time for this conversation was long overdue.

"_You_ were the one that educated me about being honest and truthful, Dad. 'Telling the truth is harder than telling a lie, but it's easier than getting caught in a web that you can't untangle,' you said," my voice faltered, not being able to mask my hurt.

The look on Sam's face—how embarrassed he was—as the words flowed from his mouth, revealed the truth that I wasn't ready for.

"I'd do anything to protect you, and at the time…" It was if he didn't even know how to justify his own actions, which upset me even worse, because deep down we both knew there was no justification.

"If he was still here, he would have had a mouthful waiting for me," My dad said, looking up at the ceiling. He disconnected himself from the current conversation.

"Sam _wasn't_ Bobby—he isn't," I whispered, taking my chances. Although my mother had given me insight on how Bobby Jenkins changed their lives, the water that I was treading in was deep and unknown. The tear that brimmed dangerously in his eye confirmed that this conversation was just as difficult for him.

"That Sam Evans…he could have been his twin, I swear. We were best friends—Bobby, your mom and I. We faced a lot together and he inspired me to be the guy I am. But I failed him with this—I failed you.

"And after all of the years of dealing with him leaving us so soon—Sam was a constant reminder. But instead of a friend, it was if he was taking you away; like he was an enemy. We took out our anger and fear on him, and it was—"

"Unnecessary, and hurt him. I didn't know Bobby, but ever since finding out about him…I feel his spirit. I feel his spirit in me _and_ in Sam. He told me that you apologized, and I appreciate that, but—"

"I haven't apologized to you, and _you're_ the most important." My dad locked his eyes with mine, and didn't look away.

"You hurt me, Dad. I constantly felt overlooked by Mom, but you reassured me. Our bond was different, or so I thought. How can I believe that I was most important in this when you didn't even include me! Just _once_, we could have had a discussion about Sam's presence in my life. He meant a great deal to me back then, and it hurt so much that you all didn't see how hard he worked to impress you.

"Unless by the grace of God, you would have _never_ lost me, Dad. Sam was just as big on family as I was, and he understood just how important you are to me. I know you can't take it back, but this changes our relationship. I'm not going to lie and say that it'll be easy to trust either you again. It hurts too much knowing that you two had to stoop as low as lying to me in order to shield me from the world's hate.

"You taught me better than that. You taught me so much, and I distinctly remember your lessons on bigotry and ignorance from society. 'Don't give them the benefits of your reactions, but only a lesson with your kindness and intelligence.' I wish you had taken that into consideration before leaping into that decision."

I never thought I'd be preaching my own Dad, ever, but it needed to be said.

"The intention was to protect you, Mercedes. As a parent—_a father_, you'll do anything for your baby girl. It wasn't until recently that I realized that keeping you away from harm, especially since when I'm the one causing it, is impossible," he choked back a sob that was building up.

"It was unintentional, I get that. But it can't be undone, and I want to work on us as a family. There's so much lost now, but we can only look ahead to try and fix it all."

My dad didn't cry, ever. He constantly sang the lyrics to Charlie Chaplin's "Smile" whenever I was sad or upset, and always reminded me to keep on smiling. Now it was my turn to chance to remind him.

"Dad, what you and Mom did was deceitful—and I've felt betrayed since finding out." Everything went dark as I shut my eyelids to truly think about what I wanted to say. More tears spilled down my face, but the smile that followed was genuine.

"But I can't hold this grudge against you—you mean so much to me, and I just want to start over."

"Mercedes—"

I knew he didn't accept how easy it was for me to be forgiving, but moving forward from this page would never happen if I kept repeating the same line over again.

"_When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by. If you smile through your fear and sorrow_," I began to sing, feeling silly, but that feeling disappeared as he sang the lyrics right back to me.

"_Smile, and maybe tomorrow_," His velvety tone blowing me away—a performance was a performance, and he always delivered.

"_You'll see the sun come shining through for you_," we finished together. I began choking on my air when he critiqued our performance, being overly ridiculous.

"I love you, Dad," I kissed him on the cheek, laughing again when he wiped off my "germs."

"I love you more, baby girl. And just because I'm up here in the hospital bed, it doesn't mean you have to rush down to get married. Like I said, it'll be a fight before someone else gives you away," he looked serious, and I believed him. I'd almost forgotten my current relationship status until he brought it up, and now I wondered what he thought of my split with Greg.

"How do you feel about us calling off the engagement?"

He turned his attention to my face, searching every feature. He seemed unprepared for the question, and I hold my breath, waiting for his response.

"I think that I'm sad because we won't be getting a lifetime of Bulls tickets as promised by Mr. Burns," my Dad pouted, but then a smile returned to his face.

"I'm serious," I pressed on, unable to keep a straight expression.

"I think that whomever you marry—whether it be Greg, Sam, or some random Joe off the street—I'll make sure to give you my blessing and support you two. _Even if it kills me inside_."

His promise instilled hope within me, and I crawled back into his arms, acting like the kid he let me be for the time being. My eyelids were heavy as we watched Sports Center together, huddled in his bed. I was exhausted, but my mind was scattered. It felt great to have his blessing—to know that he cared about my happiness more. But now it was up to me to define my own definition of "happiness" and set out on my own to find it.

Eventually my mom returned, and her nap had done the job. She'd almost been unrecognizable as she gave me a genuine smile. My jaw dropped to the floor when she'd given me the bag of breakfast foods she picked up on the way. Although it was just the day before, she'd kept her promise in trying to mend our relationship. I was careful to mention only the minor details of our heart to heart while filling her in on the morning's events. Glad that I'd achieved the task of getting him to eat, my mom ordered me to take a nap.

But I had done everything but that.

Vacant and hollow, the house Greg and I once shared felt as bare as the day we moved in. Picture frames dressed the walls in each room, and every piece of furniture had been worn and used. Walking through the corridors of this place, any outsider could be convinced of the family-filled essence the house offered. However, the emotional connection that tied me to the rooms I passed was inexistent. Memories that had once been happy, such as spending an entire day in IKEA to shop for house appliances, regressed to sour recollections of a life that wasn't mine.

Making my way up the staircase lasted longer than I intended. Enlarged portraits from our engagement lining the walls shot an arrow through my chest. Our poses had been tremendously staged from the get go, making every about the photos unnatural. In one of them in particular, Greg's hands gripped my waist from behind as we leaned against a tree. As per usual, his smile outshined the one I was sporting—which had been utterly fake. The more I looked at myself in the pictures before me, the more grateful I was that our time together had met its end—romantically, that is.

Although our conversation at the hospital deemed closure, we still had ways to go. Packing up and moving out was first of many on the agenda of moving forward. Next, we needed to talk to realtors and discuss putting the house up on the market. And then there was explaining to a high number of family and friends that the wedding was _not_ happening.

The pile of picture frames in my arms grew, and the strain had become enough. I walked into the bedroom, placing the load down on a clearing on the floor. The corners at which each wall met acted like a box, trapping me inside a shelter of the past. Everything from the heart wrenching downfall of our relationship to me running to Sam in Wentworth was fresh in my mind as I stared at every nook and cranny in the room. After a short trip to the attic, the mission was on. Hours passed by as I neatly folded and organized my belongings into boxes. As cliché as it seemed, packing resembled the transformation of my old self to someone searching for new beginnings.

Around five o'clock, the need for a break was past due. Whilst cleaning out my closet, I was overjoyed to find a case of memoirs from my high school days. After refilling my Camelbak with water, I settled in the living room, sifting through moments I'm glad were captured. Although the group would chastise Tina and I for being the camera whores that we were, they'd be happy to relive these times again.

The gist of the photos came from Glee club. After our first Sectionals during sophomore year, a tradition arose of taking a group photo after every competition. The change in dynamic of each photo was interesting. My hairstyle wasn't consistent in any of them—a realization that had me giggling at my own self. Who I stood next to in those photos wasn't either, reminding me of how lonely times had gotten.

In fact, throughout all the picturesque memories, everyone stood by someone different. Finn and Quinn clutched onto one another in one picture, as a very pressed Rachel Berry blinded the camera with her trademark smile on the other side of the room. In another, Rachel and Finn held hands, and Quinn looked ahead, unbothered. Santana and Brittany stayed close in all of the pictures, but proudly showing that they were a couple in our last year together. Tina, Artie, Kurt, and I posed together in our first picture we ever took. In our last, after winning Nationals senior year, Sam and I grinned at the camera, while Tina and Mike couldn't even break their lip lock to smile. Artie held the trophy, front and center, and Kurt stood in the back next to the ex-Warbler, Blaine.

I chuckled to myself, noticing the one the thing that remained the same had been the lack of variety in our costumes. Mr. Shue's motto was "You can't go wrong with black," and he lived by this.

Among the pictures were ticket stubs from movies I'd seen, countless programs from every performance we'd done, and all of the metals I'd worn on graduation day. Just as I was about to get to the bottom of the box, my phone buzzed, ripping me from memory lane. Thinking that it was a family member, I prepared the rehearsed speech I'd been making all morning when someone called. Call after call, I'd gotten better with maintaining my sadness, reassuring them that Dad was okay, and so was I. Except the ringtone that followed the vibrations belonged to someone that I hadn't heard from in a while.

I'd received phone calls from fellow New Directions members sparingly. Artie surprised me this morning, being silly as ever, but letting me know he was there for me if I needed him. Rachel also gave me a heart attack this morning as her chipper voice bellowed from the speaker during lunch time. Besides them, Kurt, Tina, Mike, and Sam, I was certain that no one else knew about my dad or Greg.

Santana Lopez had claimed the spot of undisputed top bitch at school when she was a freshman—something no one but her could dare to do. I couldn't even begin to stand her when she joined Glee club, but we ultimately warmed up to one another. The razor blades she hid her in hair covered up how endearing she could be. Coming out had been beyond difficult for Santana, and when her own flesh and blood failed to show her love, the family she had in us never gave up on her.

Our companionship developed along the way and our goodbye before college was surprisingly emotional. Since then, we kept up with one another. She stayed in Florida after graduating, evolving her internship at a clothing company to a job. The distance kept us apart, but nothing between us changed.

"Speak of the Devil! Satan, how the hell are you? I'm surprised you remembered me."

I beamed into the phone, waiting for her snarky remark. It had truly been way too long. We had our reunions at various holiday get togethers, but our last meeting had been two Christmases ago. She'd called to congratulate me on the engagement, making fun of the invite for at least an hour. And although I loved our phone conversations, making cracks at one another in person was always the best time.

"Don't get _too_ excited, Wheezy. I was trying to call Wal-Mart to do my weekly badgering of their shitty customer service, but my thumb landed on your name instead."

She'd clearly been waiting to use that one, and I was proud at how fast her comeback had been. Even though I was aware she was joking, I wouldn't check off prank calling Wal-Mart on the list of things Santana wouldn't do.

"By the time the phone started to ring, I figured I'd check on you since _someone_ lost _my_ number," she continued, certain that she rolled her eyes.

"Please, your ringtone is still the same after all these years, _Ms. New Booty_." Santana cackled, singing her own version of one of Bubba Sparxxx' "finest" musical gems, as she explained it.

The silence that crept over us lay thick, and the playful tone was replaced by seriousness all too soon.

"I would have called sooner, I promise. It was tough finding the right words." Waving her off as if she could see me, I reassured my saucy Latina friend that there was no need for an apology. Calling had been enough—letting me know that she still cared.

Filling her in on his current condition, her sigh on the other end of the line was breathy and short. "That's such a relief. Send Papa Jones all of my love," she paused to laugh. My eyes jumped for joy among hearing the voice of Brittany S. Pierce.

Santana Lopez continued to giggle in my ear, a feature only her blonde partner could bring out.

"Britt says that she'll be sending a box of Lucky Charms to Lima soon if she can get Lord Tubbington to stop eating all of the marshmallows," Santana crooned with a certain sweetness that would no doubt result in cavities later.

I thought about making fun of how whipped she was, but decided to relish in how happy she was. After years of seeing Santana living a painful life of hiding her true self, knowing that things had indeed gotten better was wonderful.

"How are you holding up? I remember the sickening recalls of your Cosby-like, father-daughter moments, Rudy."

There was no need to warn me of telling a fib. Lying to Santana was a waste, for her knack of calling anyone out on their shit was a science I'd never understand.

"I'm pretty much all over the damn place, if I'm being honest," I confessed, relaxed my head on the back of the couch. If Santana knew how just how many times I'd broke into tears over the past few days, she'd accuse me of having Tina Syndrome.

"Well don't hesitate to ask, chica. I'll gladly use _your_ frequent flyer miles to get there, as soon as possible!" The funniest thing about this particular crack was that it wasn't a joke in the tiniest bit. Stingy Santana wasn't a nickname, it was a lifestyle.

"_And_ you can take the girl out of Lima Heights, but Lima Heights will always be a part of _this_ girl. Make sure that Greg the Gigantic knows this. Is he taking care of you? If not, I'm on the next Red-eye."

My stomach dropped upon hearing Santana's words. Her supportive gesture only reminded me of just how much had changed in such a short period of time—of how much my friends and family didn't know. Because I'd just found out about the dinner myself and Sam's intentions behind that letter, no one else knew. Not even Kurt or Tina. The weekend had gone by so fast that reality was just catching up with me.

Breaking the news to her took forever due to her loud interjections. She insisted on hearing _every single_ detail, including Greg's assumptions up until leaving the Evans' last night. As soon as I was finished, there was no avoiding the bilingual outburst that I saw coming.

"San, please, I'm rough on my Spanish!"

"Lo ciento, but this isn't a conversation made for the phone—this is just crazy! If he thinks it's okay to just up and leave you like that—"

"Did you hear a word I said? Greg's not at fault for getting caught between our drama that I thought was over and—"

"And Trouty Mouth? I wasn't even aware he'd flopped out of his fishbowl in Tennessee! Which is strange because I'm always in the know—_not_ the point! Damn, Mercedes, I wish you'd called," her words were an earful. Despite how brash and forceful she was being, it was simply an indication that she felt concerned.

"Well I wish it was easy to call you up and say, 'Hey, my life is in shambles. Help me,' but it's not. You know reaching out for help has never been my strongest suit," I acknowledged this weakness about myself softly.

She knew indefinitely because she struggled with the same tussle. Santana kept quiet, and my mind wandered to what she could be thinking about. My confessions were a lot to take in, but she always had a piece of good advice—even if it was covered in her icy words. I was banking on her words of wrath to lead me in the right direction, but she would not grant me the unspoken request yet.

"Do you love him—Sam?"

The question robbed my ability to think clearly. Usually I could deal with Santana's frankness, but I hadn't the slightest clue of how to answer what she inquired.

"I—"

"And before you answer that, forget dwelling in the past. The way you two ended—although your parents were in the wrong for what they did—was still messy. It was messy, but it's also over and done with. Forget the Sam you knew before and ask yourself if you love him now."

What she was asking me to do was nearly impossible. The second he opened his apartment door, I couldn't deny that swarm of butterflies that flew by. And even though he had the same lopsided grin, and scrunched his nose like he'd done before, the way I felt about him differed heavily.

"I don't know, Santana. I mean, I love the _idea_ of Sam—of what could have been. But filling a seven year gap is unmanageable," I replied, fiddling with the rest of the contents of the box.

"Then _don't_ rush into trying to love him again until you mean it. His disgusting charm—equipped with his ridiculous impressions that you seem to enjoy and Southern gent-type sayings—is going to reel you back in faster than you'll be able to handle. Keep your distance and find out who _you_ want to be before being all gung-ho for changing your name to Mrs. Evans," Santana managed to slip in a few things to think about in between her "kind" thoughts. Honestly, the thought of being Mrs. Evans had her heart skipping more than a beat, but she knew she'd be deserting that road for a while.

With a sigh, I'd never been so happy to hear from her. Santana's call reiterated the power of friendship and how lucky I'd been to call her one.

"Thanks, girl. I hate admitting this more than you know, but you're right—"

"Oh, I know. You're a smart girl, though; you would have figured it out eventually. I'm just here for that extra push!"

We both laughed, knowing that the impact of Santana's push was more of a shove and punch. Regardless, she was my girl, and I wouldn't change her for anything. I was going to tell her about the blast from the past I'd come across, but the envelope at the bottom of the case captured my full attention.

"One more thing, Jones!"

Mindlessy, my "mhm" was muffled by my hand, her previous statement going in one ear and out the other.

"That void you're trying to fill won't happen. If it has to go up in flames, your past can't haunt you anymore. As long as you let your fears hold you back, this 'moving on' thing you want to accomplish won't happen."

Thanking her again while saying our goodbyes, the next step was clear. The coincidental fate of her final words and finding Sam's letter had all but held up a big red sign.

For minutes, I was stuck in my seat on the couch, contemplating how I'd go about this. The weight of the envelope was ironic. Light as a feather, the words presented on the paper had weighed down on us for years. I wanted to throw it in the fireplace as soon as I'd found it, but I couldn't do this alone. This letter had been a part of his past just as much as it had been mine. Simply suggesting him to move on wouldn't suffice. We'd go on with our lives at a different pace, but what needed to be done had to be done together.

My conversation with Santana had run almost two hours, and the sun was setting outside. Unbeknownst of his arrival time from his day trip home, I sent Sam a text anyway. Cursing myself for the tone my words set for the visit, I paced around the house, boxing up more things downstairs.

Awkward was an understatement, especially once he caught gaze of the letter he'd written. I struggled with my words, but his eyes comforted me throughout the way.

Relief was the only way to explain it. I'd meant what I said about moving on and starting fresh. As his words went up in flames, so did the feelings of remorse and sadness. It was scary how easy we fell back into our friendly roles, but I kept Santana's advice at bay. I had no trouble admitting my dreams of singing again. It felt good to admit it to myself. Greg had always been encouraging of me, but with his career in basketball ending, the stress of getting married, and my Dad, I didn't feel bad putting what I wanted on the backburner. But I was done with that. Beaming at Sam's sweet words, I was all set to start writing this new chapter.

The next days had come notoriously slow in comparison to the weekend, but I was glad those days were over. I kept myself busy taking turns with my mother as we visited my Dad. He was overly annoyed, claiming that we were babysitting him. He got over that once his family surprised him on Tuesday. When I wasn't at the hospital, I worked on moving forward. Kurt and Tina dropped by to help me with my packing and our general gossip. It was entertaining to indulge in drama other than mine.

Greg even stopped by to gather up his things, and the discussion of selling this house wasn't as difficult as I foreseen. Whether it was genuine or not—our healing process of the break-up wasn't complete—he kept a smile on his face the entire time. He informed me that he'd be staying with his cousin upstate until he found a place. I was grateful that we didn't need to do anything immediate about the house. Although I was working on my relationship with the both of them, I didn't want to move back in with my parents. My dad came home on Thursday, and while my mother's invite to stay with them to help with taking care of him almost had me, my dad was not on board.

"I'll pay the down payment on an apartment, if need be," was his instant response. He insisted that he would be okay, and if not, he promised to call.

It was now Friday, almost a week since my own personal episode of Gossip Girl. After a full afternoon of balling up papers containing lyrics I'd tried to write, I decided to get some air. I made my way around Lima, apartment hunting. I talked to five land lords that were leasing, and narrowed down my choices to three. Luckily, my savings were untouched, so making the first few months' payments wouldn't be a problem.

Unfortunately, after a call to all of the schools in the Lima, no one was looking for music teacher. Grabbing the newspaper at a local stand in town, I wandered by small businesses, picking up applications everywhere. It had only been the first day, but I was frustrated with the lack of job opportunities that Lima didn't have.

I was supposed to be looking for myself, but a small ad in the paper for a new business had me thinking of Sam. Circling it in red, I made sure to let him know about this opportunity as soon as possible. We'd spoken off and on during the week. He'd successfully cleared out his place in Wentworth on Wednesday. Instead of finding a permanent place, Stevie and Stacey begged him to move in just for "a little while." His parents hadn't objected either. They'd just gotten him back, and wouldn't mind if he stuck around. Sam adored his family, but like me, he was ready to start fresh. So I promised to keep an eye on places for him. Other than random texts, and one phone conversation, we'd given one another space. It'd be nice to see him again—and his family, and James, of course.

He beat me to the call, mid-dial. His frantic voice alarmed me at first, but as soon as he explained, my laughter was overflowing.

"_Ha-ha_. If you could come over to help me, you'd be a lifesaver!"

I wouldn't make him beg, but he'd have to listen to teasing for a few more minutes. Among hearing Stevie's protest of something in the back, I made my way home for a quick stop before heading to the Evans' home.

Expecting to see Sam's red face at the door, I was shocked to see Stacey open the door. I was even more shocked to see the travesty that had been her hair.

The poor girl ran into my arms in tears, thanking me for showing up. Mr. and Mrs. Evans had planned a weekend away together months ago, and they left before the kids returned from school. Sam agreed to keep an eye on his brother and sister, even though they didn't need much supervision anymore. Unluckily for them, Sam had been the one who needed supervision. He'd called me in a panic, saying that he'd ruined Stacey's hair. He'd never been one to lie, and the result of his impromptu curling hair session was worse than he lead on.

"Please tell me you can help me, Mercy, please!" She sobbed more into my shoulder as an embarrassed Sam appeared in the doorway.

"No worries, honey," I said cupping her face after letting my eyes linger on his figure for too long. "I've got my bag of beauty with me, and we're going to fix Sammy's mistakes!"

He playfully scowled at me as we walked into their home, but thanked me nonetheless.

"I'm glad you called! What made you think that you could curl hair?" I wrapped my arm around the young girl's waist as Sam looked on apologetically at his baby sister.

"She wanted to look good for the dance! I tried—I guess watching you and my mom curl hair isn't the same as actually doing it." He sheepishly rocked back on his heels, stuffing his hands into his jeans.

Stacey and Stevie were both attending McKinley's back to school dance that evening. He tried his best to fill the role of Mom and Dad at once, but his plan didn't go accordingly. He would never live this down, but I'd have to work on my jabs as I helped Stacey.

"While I'm attacking _this_," I said pointing to what he'd done. "Go help Stevie get ready."

"I would…but he won't let me!" My eyes widened at this fact, demanding an explanation.

"I suggested a bolo tie, and he all but kicked me out of his room. He hasn't come out since then and refused to go," he sulked onto the couch in their living room.

There weren't words. This entire situation had been unintentionally hilarious, but addressing that would have to wait until after saving the day.

"Just…play with James and sit there until I'm done, okay?" I laughed, when out of nowhere, the pup ran towards his Daddy at the call of his name.

In her room, it didn't take much to calm Stacey down. Fortunately, the dance didn't start for another hour, so there was time to give her a makeover without rushing. Starting from scratch, we washed and dried her hair. I was relieved to see it in her straight, natural blonde state. She still wanted curls, despite her older brother's failed efforts.

Before showing her the final product, I made sure she promised to never let Sam touch her hair again. Our smiles matched as we fist bumped. She squealed happily at the sight of her hairstyle. Half up, half down and complete with soft ringlets at the bottom, Stacey Evans looked stunning. She gushed over how beautiful her make-up looked. The mistake of many girls her age made was applying way too much. Her beauty was natural, and my goal was to accentuate that.

Once she changed into her red halter dress that went past the knee, I couldn't stop the tears from falling. She was a young woman now, and it was difficult to get rid of the images of her as a kid. Sniffling into her shoulder, she begged me to stop the waterworks as we released from a hug.

"I have a date tonight," Stacey told me, unable to look me in the eye. I had to resist the longing to pinch her adorable cheeks, but her discomfort level was already running high.

I took her hand, joining her on her bed. I saw myself in her a lot back in the day. She was ridiculously independent. I thought about how she once told me "all boys were icky, except for Sam and Stevie."

"I'm nervous because I really like him, but I don't want to become one of those lovesick girls who are dependent on their boyfriends. I want to be my own person but still be able to like him."

I radiated with so much pride. The girl was worried about keeping her pride instead of the actual date.

"If you don't like yourself when you're around him, then you have to look at yourself and reconsider your decisions. Who you are as a woman is more important than your relationship with any man. As long as you're having fun and he treats you right, then it'll come naturally, Stace," I promised her. If it had been a month ago, I wouldn't have been prepared to give that piece of advice. Now that I was going through a similar issue, I knew that finding out what it meant to be Mercedes Jones came first.

"_Deep_," she commented jokingly, punching me in the arm. "Would you mind keeping this from Sam? I'm not exactly ready for him to interrogate Chris yet."

Understanding completely, I promised to not say a word. If I knew Sam, he'd never be okay with the idea of his baby sister dating. Leaving her to calm her nerves, I checked on Stevie in the room across the hall. He opened the door reluctantly, revealing that he'd changed into pajamas.

He let me into his "man cave"—which resembled the mess that had been Sam's room at his old apartment. Choosing to ignore the clutter and stench, I tackled the issue at hand.

"I'm not wearing a bolo tie, Mercedes. Just because Sam wore one to his dance, doesn't mean I am!" He huffed, looking exactly like Sam when he was frustrated. From the pout, to the way his Southern drawl emerged—he mirrored his brother's actions without thought.

"Then you don't have to! Where's the outfit he picked out?"

My eyes almost popped out of their sockets amid seeing Sam's choices. Out of Stevie's closet, I knew there was something better than a Hawaiian button up, khakis, and boat shoes.

"I don't know either!" He answered my quizzical look. Throwing my hands up in the air, I worked through his closet and found a light blue dress shirt, and navy pants.

He seemed to like my choices better, but Stevie's attitude hadn't changed about the dance.

"Is there something else bugging you about this?"

Twiddling his thumbs, he ignored my request, but sighed once he caught my stale face.

"I'm not the best dancer in the world. Sam's body rolls are frightening, and my Dad's trademark 'sprinkler' move is so…._Dad_."

The similarities among the Evans men were uncanny. I was hoping Stevie would break the curse, but all three of them had issues on the dance floor.

"How about I teach you a few simple moves that will keep you in the safe zone tone?" He nodded emphatically. After twenty minutes, we mastered the two-step, using your arms to feel the music, and the always scary slow dance. He wasn't ready to audition for the next dance reality show, but he was well on his way for this school dance.

Gathering the youngest Evans' children at the top of the stairwell, I told them to wait until I announced them. I couldn't wait for Sam to see his brother and sister all dolled up.

Making my way down the steps, the tune of Don't Stop Believin' graced my ears, and I smiled at the memories that came upon hearing the New Directions classic cover. My smile grew wider discovering Sam singing karaoke…with James.

"_Hold on to that feeeeeling! Streetlights_," he sang, passing the microphone to James. When his only response was licking the mike, I failed at containing my amusement.

He jumped up, muting the television and crossed our path until he was standing before of me.

"You saw _nothing_," he tried, but his shoulders fell as I shook my head.

"Oh, but I saw _everything_. This night has been so golden, Ponyboy, thank you for the laughs!" His mouth fell to the ground at the mention of one of many nicknames I had for him. The Outsiders had been on my favorite books growing up, and the movie had been the equivalent his Avatar.

Before he could think of a rebuttal, I was calling down his siblings one at a time. He accepted the handshake from Stevie, ruffling his hair, while apologizing once more. The small exchange had me feeling all of the warm fuzzies. Stopping myself before I got too emotional, I called down their sister.

Both Evans' boys stared on as she gracefully took the staircase. The moment resembled that of a movie's and I squealed, mimicking Kurt-like applause.

Stacey stopped in front of the two, awaiting their response. She looked at me for help when neither of them muttered a word.

"What do you think? Doesn't she look dazzling?"

"Absolutely not!" The two shouted in unison. Taken aback, I almost lunged forward.

"You're not leaving this house in that, Stace. Put a sweater on, geez!" Stevie attempted to cover her up with his own jacket, but was pushed away by his sister. I wanted to hug her as she tried to cover up her disappointment.

Sam ignored the frown on my face, and continued to gawk over Stacey's outfit.

"I'm sorry, Stacey, but you'll have to change. I refuse for you to come home with your first kiss—or worse, a boyfriend!"

The two of them babbled on together about how her attire was completely inappropriate and that she was too young to be wearing make-up. Her sad eyes didn't affect her stance as she stood tall and took all of the grief they were giving her.

A ring of the doorbell saved the day, and their friends were there to pick them up.

"Sorry Sam, no time!" She shrugged, grabbing a coat from the hallway closet. "Our ride is here," Stacey sneered at Stevie.

"Well, who's driving?" Sam followed the pair to the door, still upset that he hadn't won.

"Karen's parents paid for a limo to—"

"A limo? No way! I'll be driving you two _after_ you change!" He went away to find his keys, but he stopped cold as I yelled his name. I rolled my eyes at him, not intimidated by his protective posture.

"You two have a great night, and remember curfew!" I said opening the door, scooping James into my arms to prevent him from running out. He'd been watching the commotion at my feet ever since it begun—his eyes shifting from each of them as they spoke.

Stacey mouthed "thanks" and ran out the door. Before Stevie could get past, I gently grabbed his wrist.

"Let your sister have fun tonight and stay off her back! If you see any funny business, then you step in. Otherwise, be a big brother from _afar_," I insisted, not letting go until he nodded.

"Call _me_ if you see any '_funny_ business!' Sam told him, but I made sure he didn't agree to his demand. Once the door was shut, he avoided me on all accounts. I plucked him in the back of the head as we made our way into the living room again. We sat side by side on the loveseat, but he continued to break eye contact.

"Where do I even begin with you, Evans?"

Having more interest in the television, he turned to a documentary on the Animal Planet. I would have scolded him if he weren't so agitated. I expected him to freak out if he knew about Stacey's date, but not act like a baboon among seeing her in a dress.

"What's this? Is James licking my face? What's that, boy? You like me more than Sam?" My bait worked, and he turned my way in disbelief.

"Lies and fallacies, Mercedes. He didn't say that," he said sticking his tongue out at me whilst returning James to his lap.

I turned the TV off, shifting my body to face his. He pressed kisses on the top of his puppy's head, gazing up at me. Ignoring how damn cute he looked with that dog, I regarded the issue at hand.

"You can't blow up like that every time you see her like that. In the midst of your warpath, I bet you didn't see how hurt she was."

"But, Mercedes—"

"No, no buts. She still looks up to you and your opinion matters. If she wanted a lecture, she'd go to your parents. You're still her superhero, but the way you acted tonight? You'll be lucky if she doesn't typecast you as the villain from now on."

He sighed, handing James back over, claiming that he needed punishment for his actions.

"I guess seeing her all pretty and whatnot—when the hell did she start looking like _that_?" He pulled his hair, slumping his position on the small couch.

"Puberty is different for girls, Sam—a lot different. And you're going to have to deal with her growing up, and not agreeing with everything you say. We can't forget about dates and boys, either. One day, she'll have a boyfriend—"

"_Never,_" he commented fast with a cheeky smile.

"_Alright_, Mr. Double Standard, but you need to watch out for your Mini-Me, too. He takes after you and your Dad, and Lord _knows_ that charm is dangerous," I reminded him. At the rate he was going, I would not be surprised if Stevie brought home a few numbers of his own tonight. Sam shuddered at the thought of a sex talk, making sure his Dad would tackle that one.

After making sure to laugh at him for his abundance of _smart_ decisions tonight, reminiscing on our prom days came easy. Senior year, prom had been ridiculous. The limo driver got lost on the way to the hotel. Before getting there, Puck had gotten sick, drinking way too much alcohol. After dropping him off, Sam realized that he'd forgotten our tickets at home. Our entire group had been a frazzled mess, and by the time we walked through the doors, we'd missed the announcing of King and Queen. Sam and I danced to three songs exactly before the dance ended, but regardless, it was a night to remember.

He cut his laughter short, suddenly uncomfortable. "Sorry, I know we're supposed to be moving forward and everything," Sam muttered, now focusing on playing fetch with James. Throwing his toy further and further, his smile didn't reach his eyes.

I was at fault for getting caught up as well, but talking about the good times couldn't hurt. Reaching over to my bag, I retrieved the photos I'd found earlier in the week.

"Dwelling in what happened or what didn't is something that we don't want to do, but looking back on the good times is okay, I assume," I offered the pictures. The one on top was of us, posing in the middle of the dance floor. My floor length strapless dress and his black suit with matching red vest were perfect—we won Best Dressed for a reason. We looked through all of the pictures, pausing to laugh at some of our decisions from time to time. It wasn't until our stomachs growled simultaneously together that we stopped.

He followed me into the kitchen after deciding that I would stay until they returned from their dance. Sam offered to cook dinner for us, and I only agreed if I could help. Although his gesture had been completely platonic, I couldn't rid the romantic air that I felt.

We moved around the kitchen silently unless he asked me to do something. The pasta boiled, and my stomach yearned for the garlic bread in the oven. James agreed, sniffing his little nose in the air, and barking at Sam to hurry up, I'm sure.

I'd entertained myself by reading the ingredients on the back of a sauce can. I was about to tell him that I had a recipe for homemade sauce when I caught him staring intensely. His eyes knocked me back. A splotchy blush crept up his face when I stared back. I desperately tried to remember what Santana had said, but it was hard to ignore an attractive man cooking me dinner.

Discarding the apron I made him wear, he turned down the eyes on the stove. "Can we talk? I promise once we get this out of the way, no more talking about the past," he swore.

Without pinpointing his topic of discussion, I already knew where this conversation was headed. I'd thought about it various times throughout the week, so I should have been ready to talk. We'd talked about everything _but_ our feelings for one another since that night, and I honestly didn't want to. I was enjoying how we'd skillfully avoided the matter, until now.

"Sure!" My nerves had mistakenly convinced him that I was chipper to dive in about this, but I was terrified of what he would say.

Strategically, I distanced myself from him at the dining room table. Unlike other times, he was not hesitant.

"I agree that we both need to leave the ancient history where it is. But we haven't talked about what you said at my place—about why Greg left. If you're not ready, by all means, shut me up—"

"You're sweet—for trying to spare my feelings and all. But, you deserve an explanation," I began, interrupting his statement.

He gave me his undivided attention, and I prepared to dig deep into my feelings. For a final time, I went back to my dark feelings of the day he left, and of the day he showed up at my engagement party.

"As bitchy as I was to you that day, I still expected you to stay and fight for me. Can you believe that? I didn't want _you_ to give up on _me_ after I'd indicated that there was zero hope left for us. I wanted an explanation for the letter—for you to stop me from marrying him. It was the most selfish I'd ever felt, which sparked my month-long depression.

"I told you to move on, but in reality I was stuck in a dream world myself. I was pissed at myself for getting married when I clearly wasn't ready. If I was done with you, I wouldn't have acted the way that I did. Sure, I would have been upset with you for showing up out of nowhere, but that should have ended after you left. Instead, I beat myself up for letting you go _again_.

"And then when Greg saw through me, I had the nerve to try and convince him otherwise. I'd been too embarrassed to admit that I had no idea what I wanted. Looking back on it, I thought I had all of these feelings, but we barely know each other, Sam."

He broke at the way I'd said his name, gripping my hand for extra support.

"He wasn't wrong, though. Those feelings were still there, but for the wrong reasons. The way you looked at me that day—it was if you were ready to snatch me up and take me down the aisle yourself. That itself was scary, which is why I barely let you talk. If you'd done all of the persuading you set out to do, I would have left with you without question. It wouldn't have been fair to you, him, or _me_.

"I'm sorry if I'm not making any sense. My mind is everywhere," I let go of his hand; apprehensive about everything I was saying.

"S'okay. I get it, or I'm trying to, at least." He slipped my hand back into his larger one, shooting me a sad smile.

"For a while, I'd been hanging onto Samcedes circa high school myself," Sam admitted. Smiling at our couple name, he grazed my fingers with his own.

"I'm guilty too, but who's to say there can't be a Samcedes 2.0?"

His eyes brightened at the suggestion, but fell again. "I don't want to pressure you. As much as I would love that," he paused, no doubt noticing the quickening pace of the rise and fall of my chest.

"I want to be your friend first. I want to meet this new girl you've been talking about." He pointed at me and winked.

It was the first time he'd discussed his feelings, but he hadn't gone too deep. Although he hadn't said it aloud, it was clear he wanted more between us. I wasn't ready to hear Sam's extensive declarations of love that his eyes and body language had previously told me. I wanted my feelings for him to evolve naturally, not under the pressure of a timeline.

"I want you to meet her too," I whispered before getting up to hug him. This embrace had been different—as if we were cleansing ourselves from the drama. I looked forward to starting anew, certain that this journey would be an interesting ride.

The beeping of the oven interrupted us, and we ran into the kitchen, desperate to finish dinner. After replenishing our stomachs, we sang karaoke all night until the kids returned. Sam teased me for being too afraid to sing Mariah Carey's Vision of Love. I loved the song, but if I was going to do it, I had to give it my all. I honestly didn't think I could pull it off. He threatened to sing it himself, but I stole the microphone before he could even think about it.

"If my voice cracks, you do _not_ have permission to laugh at me." I tried to be badass, but failed as he pretended to shake fearfully.

"I would never."

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><p><strong>Thanks for reading! Y'all are so awesome :)<strong>


	18. Take Me To The River

**Here I am again! So thankful that you all are still with me, supporting this story every step of the way. I hope you enjoy this latest update. Love you all! **

**Special shoutout to my twinnie, tensionandthrill! You keep my head above the water. Love you!**

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><p>It was a selfish act, really. The burning of the letter had set us free, and we were finally on our way. I could breathe around her again. Slowly, but surely, the two of us were beginning to lift ourselves off the ground—ready to take flight towards someplace new. Our world was <em>somewhat<em> content until I let my insecurities creep its way up my spine.

After almost singlehandedly ruining my sister's hair with that deadly curling iron _and_ her night with my overly protective instincts, Mercedes had come to our rescue.

Again.

Her voice was distant as she stood on the porch with my sister, but like the magnet she was, I found myself floating to her without any thought. As Stacey clung to her for dear life, my face caught fire. I tried focusing on everywhere except her face, but subconsciously, my eyes linked with hers. Calling on her had been a last resort. Although we'd established something of a friendship in the last week, it seemed too early to be asking for favors. Once Stacey caught gaze of her "hairstyle", she demanded Mercedes' presence, and there we were.

I was almost certain Mercedes had eaten the sunshine itself for breakfast. Wherever she went, she emitted a glow that immediately enhanced my day. Even as she teased me, the longing to scoop her up in my arms was at its highest level. The longing to make her mine was even worse.

While Mercedes was off saving the day, I took pride in having quality time with my pup. James had been flirting with everyone all day, and I had no shame in wanting him to myself. Instead, he was busy chewing up yet another shoe and had no interest in his owner whatsoever. Before I could beg him to rethink his decisions, the stifled giggles coming from my sister's room caught my attention. No doubt they were laughing at me, but I couldn't help but join in with them.

Growing up with Stacey and Stevie, I'd naturally taken on the role of caretaker. While we were living at that motel, I would stand in for my parents without question. For the most part, I was good with them. I managed to cook meals without burning down the place, and they loved my impressions. I made sure they were outside, enjoying their childhood as much as they could. Making sure those two were alive and well was easy…until things weren't okay. In times of panic, I'd try my best to keep the situation under control. But in cases where all hope was lost, Mercedes flew across town, no questions asked.

"_Where are they?" She regarded my red, teary face once I opened the door. Pushing past me, she ran over to the two sitting on the bed. Most of the bleeding had stopped and they were all bandaged up. I'd done more crying than they did. _

_One second. _

_I'd taken my eye off of them for _one second_. They were arguing over some toy that was no longer important. At the sound of their cries, I dropped the pan to the floor and bolted. I could deal with finding a lost shoe, or resolving an argument, but when your brother and sister were in pain, thinking rationally went out the window. _

_I listened to them explain with trembling hands, only being able to focus on their injuries. The dinosaur's tail had torn Stacey's lip after pushing and pulling became too much. Stevie had been so stunned that he tripped back and cut himself on the arm. _

_They hadn't shown too much discomfort. Stacey was more worried about disappointing me, and Stevie was upset with himself for hurting Stacey. I, on the other hand, was way past losing my shit. _

_She was the first person I thought of to call. She answered as I fetched the first aid kit, and I all but sobbed into the phone. They were intact, and they seemed okay, but there was something about seeing them any less than perfect. The slightest bit of damage of the innocence scared me, and to think that I could have prevented it. It was only one second. _

_I couldn't even think straight, and all I wanted was to make sure that they'd be fine. She reminded me to calm down and use peroxide on the cuts, especially Stacey's. She didn't need an infection or anything. Putting her phone on speaker in the car, she talked to me the entire way. _

_Mercedes made it to the motel in record time, and by the time she arrived, they were enjoying the television. I followed her close as she scurried over to check out their scars. Stevie's cut had taken a wide bandage. After cleaning her lip, I made sure Stacey applied pressure with a clean paper towel until the bleeding had stopped. _

_The both of them ran into her arms, and I couldn't shake the image of her coming home to our own children. We were seventeen though, and I was sure she'd go running for the hills at the mention of Sam Jr. or Little Mercy. _

"_Looks like they'll be sporting the scars of their battle wounds for a while. Other than that, they look fine to me," Mercedes stood from her crouch. Her smile comforted my thumping heart, but I still couldn't shake the guilt. It was _my_ responsibility to ensure their safety. We were lucky that the outcome hadn't been worse. _

_I fell into her arms easily, smoothing her hair down tenderly. _

"_Sam, your heart is running wild right now! Baby, they're __**fine**__," she drew back wiping my face. I hadn't realized I was crying again until she'd done so. _

_Over her shoulder, I went back to the days they were born. Holding them in the hospital room, I looked into their eyes, wondering what they'd be like. Whatever they turned out to be, I promised to always be the best big brother—to protect them. _

_Here I was breaking my number one rule. _

"_It was an accident, boo. You can't blame yourself—and get your mind out of that dark place right now!"_

_Mercedes' hand was stern on my chin, insistent that I look at her. Her concerned gaze brought me out of my never ending stream of 'what ifs' almost immediately. Leading her to the cot, I pulled her into my lap ignoring every argument she gave. We watched the back on their blonde heads quietly and the revelation of just how blessed I was had me fighting another round of tears. _

_On the daily, kids would pass me in the hall, looking on sympathetically. I could only assume that they thought I was living the shittiest of lives, but that was far from the truth. My parents had continued to show me solidarity within their relationship and in this family. The friends I had in Glee club were beyond amazing, even with their constant craziness. Stacey and Stevie were the cutest and most loveable people on the planet, and I was honored to be their brother. And if God hadn't already given me enough, Mercedes Jones walked into my life without warning, and she was still here dealing with me._

"_I get so worried that I'm going to screw up with them so badly one day that I won't be able to put a Band-Aid on it, you know?"_

"_You can't shield them from everything, Super Sam." Mercedes shined bright, tapping my nose with her tiny finger. Scrunching my nose, I waited for the giggle that always followed. _

"_But I have the cape and everything!" I fake pouted. The kids were in the room, so the urge to deepen the soft peck she'd given me would have to subside. _

_I felt her shiver under the touch of my lips to her forehead. As her eyelids flickered shut, I took the moment to rake in her presence. The feel of her body close to my own, her warmth, her everything—I'd never grow tired of it all. _

"_You're the best girlfriend, _ever_. You didn't have to come all the way over here, I was just bugging out," I spoke just loud enough so she could hear me. _

"_That's because you're the best _brother_ ever." I leaned into her touch after she rewarded me with a kiss to the cheek. _

"_**And**__ you were practically having a heart attack on the phone, so I figured catching reruns of Real Housewives of Atlanta with Kurt and Tina could wait," she muttered, finding home to my chest once again. _

"_What do you think your parents are going to say?" _

_I could only hear her laughter as she observed my suddenly stone face. I hadn't even considered their reaction until now. Their only wish was to keep everything and everyone safe and undamaged. _

_At least I'd succeeded at one of those commands…sort of. _

James decided it was time for me to pay attention to him again, so that was when I chose to brush the cob webs of my voice away and have some fun with the karaoke channel. We'd gotten through a few songs until a distinct snicker from behind me told me I wasn't alone.

Mercedes was enjoying my string of embarrassing moments thoroughly and couldn't rid herself of that smirk.

I was ready to thank her until Stacey came down the stairs looking way too adult for her own good. She was wearing make-up, a dress that was incredibly too short…and was that cleavage? The baby girl with a cut lip was long gone, and I didn't want to believe one bit of it. I was blind to my fury until Mercedes had to knock some sense in to me—literally. The thought of boys _thinking_ about talking to her was appalling, but knowing they would be dancing with her tonight did something else to me.

But of course, my need to protect those two from everything was no excuse for my actions or words. She'd walked out of the door not looking back at me once, and I knew I'd done irrevocable damage. Like before, Mercedes had been there to keep my head above water and comfort me—even if I didn't deserve her kind words.

So there we were, relishing in the good times we once had _and_ each other. I tried my best to focus on the task at hand, but watching help me with dinner led my thoughts to the future. Did we have a future? As we walked around the kitchen, our conversation that happened last Saturday continued to play over in my head.

"_B-but, he doesn't have anything to worry about, right? He's obviously mistaken." _

"_No. At least, I don't think he's wrong." _

I told myself to let it go, but she'd been so sincere. Mercedes and I had purposely kept what she said under wraps—the drama had already escalated to its highest. There was no need to rehash fresh wounds. We'd established that friendship would come first. The past was locked away, and all was well.

But her words were eating at me. I'd decided that I wanted forever with her, but I needed to know what was on her mind. What I'd said spilled from my mouth without warning, and we were placed in the awkward zone yet again.

She'd taken us back to the day where I was sure I ruined it all. I'd put myself in that predicament for the same selfish reasons that brought me to this current conversation. Not once did the possibility of her reaction pop up into my head, and this time was no different.

Mercedes' confessions stilled my heart as I listened to her in her most vulnerable state. I went back to Wentworth with my tail wagging dejectedly, while she was here falling apart. Although her demeanor had been nothing close to inviting, she wanted me to stay and fight. She wanted me to see that she felt trapped. Her angry speech had been a ploy to convince herself she was happy _and_ plea to make me see that she wasn't.

It was difficult to find joy in this conversation. Yes she'd made it clear that she cared, but I was the center of all this pain and confusion. Her words resembled an apology, but it was me that needed to say sorry. It was then that I finally accepted that our first relationship had no factor into building our new one. I'd spent most of my time this week day dreaming about our awaited reunion when I could have been thinking of ways to get to know her again. We'd fallen into our own naturally before. There was no rush to start naming our children.

Even if we had to wait ages to get there, Samcedes 2.0 sounded pretty damn good to me.

After eating, I jumped the chance to hear her voice again. She powered through Vision of Love effortlessly. And although she wasn't singing directly to me, I would feel the impact of those lyrics for a lifetime. After putting on a special performance for James, Mercedes and I were exhausted—karaoke was no joke. It was only 10:30, and the both of us were drifting off. The last thing I remember was making fun of ourselves for feeling so old.

"Wake up, Grandpa Sam! The kids are back."

Opening my eyes to the face of Mercedes had been enough to wake me up from my slumber. Once I figured out that Stacey and Stevie were back, I ran to the door without looking back. She eventually caught up with me, scolding me about acting natural, but I was too nervous. Stevie was first to enter the house, and he was gliding on air. He kept the details of his night to a minimum, only offering that he had "a good time."

It was me that had to hold Mercedes back this time, who had been severely disappointed as he disappeared to his room.

"I taught him how to dance, and all I get is 'it was a good time'? What even…" she pouted. I was seconds from teasing her when my youngest sibling came through the doorway.

She swept past me without a glance, and fell into the arms of Mercedes. Jealously hit me hard as I inspected her neck for hickeys from afar.

Stacey started off on a rant about her night, but stopped short once she saw me eavesdropping. She promised that she would call Mercedes the following day and ran upstairs, failing to say goodnight.

It was my turn to pout. Clearly she was still upset with me, and I didn't know how to handle this. An impression and a hug did the trick, but she had outgrown my juvenile ways of making things better.

"Stacey will come around eventually, Sam," Mercedes said on the porch.

Our night was coming to a close. Asking her to stay went against to our slow place, so I didn't protest when she started to leave.

"Well eventually needs to be now—I miss her already."

"She's _upstairs_, fool!"

Mercedes' eyes told me that she found my mock hurt amusing. We chatted a few more minutes before she left me alone on the porch. She remembered that she found an ad in the newspaper for me about a new business in town that was looking for a logo design and given it to me with a smile. To know that she was thinking of me on her own personal job search was so overwhelming that I had to hug her. It was me that peeled myself off of her, knowing that I could stay in her arms all night.

"Goodnight, Super Grandpa Sam!"

I reminded myself to stay grounded as she drove away in her car. Now if I could keep my mouth shut, it would be smooth sailing from this point forward.

* * *

><p>Monday had come too soon, and the time to venture out for this business opportunity was here. The short notice hadn't been enough for Eddie to make a trip into town. I would have been fine tackling the meeting alone, but Mercedes insisted on standing in for Eddie as my fake business partner.<p>

"What? You never know what kind of crazies you could run into. Buddy system, dude," she told me on the phone.

That had been an hour ago, and now we were wandering Main Street, eager to find this location. Despite the cool breeze of the early morning hours, the fall season had fully emerged in Lima. Halloween décor had already sprung in several stores, and the few trees that lined the streets were losing its leaves. Mercedes and I passed several people walking their dogs, and I ignored the pain of missing James. After the fifth, the breath I was holding broke through. Her curls bounced as she tossed her head back in laughter. There was no fooling Mercedes and she was quick to remind me that.

Keeping our relationship strictly platonic for the time being was successful—so far. Although, whenever she smiled, laughed, or wore outfits like her current one, the difficulty to keep my eyes to themselves increased by the second. I hadn't expected her to dress up, but Mercedes wanted to be professional for my sake. Her black skirt stopped right above her knee, and the purple satin blouse she wore brought attention to my favorite places. If she wasn't killing me enough, her heels were a dangerous addition to her legs. My jaw slacked expression softened while she explained that she was hoping that this job would work out for me, and whatever she could do to increase those chances, she would. We caught ourselves smiling at the other like idiots before continuing our path.

Engaging in conversation was easy with her, and I appreciated her company. She informed me that her father was home now, a fact that made me smile. We'd been going over last minute notes from my portfolio when I felt her tug on my arm.

"Here we are!" Mercedes clapped enthusiastically.

The banner from the previous owner of the old shoe store had faded, and was barely hanging on. The inside of this place was a mystery due to the fabric clinging to opposite side of the window. Other than the help wanted sign on the door, there was no indication of life. Looking at the newspaper advertisement again and back up at the building, the entire situation was overly sketch for my liking.

"Maybe we should….Mercedes?"

She was halfway past the threshold, clearly unaware of my question. Her back was the last thing I saw before she disappeared. I'd seen enough movies to know where this was headed, but I couldn't let her get slashed by a guy in a creepy mask. Mercedes' adventurous side and my need to be the hero would result in the both of our murders.

The doorbell greeted me as I stepped inside. The icy chill was another factor in this horror film remake and I was ready to bolt. Thankfully, Mercedes' body hadn't been ripped to shreds when I found her scoping out the shop. Bare, with the exception of boxes off to the corner and a baby Grand in the middle of the space, we were alone. Before I could stop her, Mercedes stalked towards the instrument with a gleam in her eye. Her heels clicked across the hardwood floor, echoing off the walls.

"Okay, this is petrifying, and the random piano isn't helping," I joined her on the stool reluctantly.

Lost in her own awe of the black and ivory beauty before her, Mercedes lightly ran her fingers down the glossy keys. It was easy to forget where we were as I watched her look on lovingly.

No one had greeted us yet—the chance was right there. Music had been our first loves, and I understood what it felt like to hear that perfect song.

"Go on, I know you want to." Her eyes brightened at my words of encouragement. Not once did she hesitate.

The tune was unfamiliar, but reminded me of something. I was so captivated by her chord progressions and flawless key changes that the shadowy figure had remained invisible until Mercedes screamed.

My first instinct was to shield her from any harm. Even as the guy held his arms up innocently, my grip on her arms remained still.

"I didn't mean to trouble you there! It's just I heard beautiful music, and I came running."

Sitting down, I could tell he was shorter than me. If he tried anything out of the ordinary, I was prepared to kick his ass willingly. He broke into a nervous smile, and I felt Mercedes' muscles relax. The mystery guy seemed harmless enough, but I wasn't quick to trust him. His dark brown hair, Polo-khaki combo, and disgustingly perfect smile reminded me of the douchebag preps Eddie and I designed for just a few months prior.

The clearing of a throat reminded me of the reason why we were here. Clutching our portfolio, I extended my hand. Annoyingly, his handshake was firm.

"My name is Sam Evans, employee of Walker Designs. Would you happen to know of anything about this?" I asked, holding up the torn page from the newspaper.

He'd kept his hold on my hand, and his entire face illuminated at the mention of the ad.

"I was beginning to think no one would show up! I'm Nick Simms—I own this place!"

His sudden urge to turn our handshake into a hug was a surprise, and I never settled into his embrace. Confusion and disbelief spread through me fast. Nick was the same age as Mercedes and I, if not younger. Expecting to meet a stuffy business man much older, his presence was a shock.

Looking at Mercedes, I was hoping that she was just as put off as I was, but her smile light up the dull room. Was she impressed?

"Excuse me, but what exactly _is_ this place?" She questioned him.

At first glance, the current room we were in had nothing to offer except boxes. Looking closer, I noticed the boxes contained unknown equipment. Pushed against the back wall were brand new instruments and sheet music was scattered among the floor.

As proud as ever, Nick stepped back—arms wide open.

"Welcome to Bluebird Records! The first and only recording studio Lima has ever seen!"

"Are you serious? That's amazing, I—"

Embarrassed at her sudden outburst, Mercedes took interest in the flooring and avoided all eye contact. I thought she was the cutest thing ever, and to my dismay, so did Nick.

"I didn't catch your name, gorgeous."

If he hadn't turned me off enough, Nick's interest in Mercedes made him my least favorite person on this planet. I had no place to be territorial, but I could be protective if I wanted to.

This horror film had turned into my own nightmare, and I wanted to wake up now.

He continued to flirt with her, and my head continued to pound. At first I thought I was imagining it, but his accent was clear. This Nick guy wasn't from Lima _or_ this country, for that matter. In fact, I was almost certain he was from…

"Australia! Port Lincoln, to be exact," Nick told us. He'd led us to the back room where he'd made an office.

Unlike the front room, he'd spent much time making it presentable. The walls were just as colorful as his personality—the neon green and orange splatters were a nightmare for the eyes. Black and white posters of various music artists adorned the walls had Mercedes practically drooling. The two had hit it off almost immediately. I convinced myself that the rotten feeling in my stomach was caused by my discomfort of the situation. _Not_ because I was jealous.

"Feel free to make as many Outback or kangaroo jokes as you please. I'm used to it," he smiled offering us a piece of candy.

The portfolio in my hands went untouched for almost an hour as we listened to Nick ramble on about his life and what he was doing here in Lima. Nick Simms had spent both his undergraduate and graduate studies in the States. His overly wealthy and uptight parents had driven him away from home when he was eighteen, and he'd been living in the Midwest since then. Fortunately for him and his bank account, they'd yet to cut him off.

"I'm just waiting for the day my card gets cut in half. _That_ would be embarrassing!"

He laughed heartily. This kid had no respect for money and had no value for it. If Nick was trying to present himself in a qualified manner, his tales of being totally irresponsible weren't helping his image.

After switching his major three times, he'd settled with a Bachelor's degree in Music Industry. He'd almost finished graduate school in Chicago, until he got "bored" and dropped out.

"Now I'm here, trying to get this company off the ground! When you think of music, where does your mind go?" He asked rhetorically.

"Los Angeles, New York, Atlanta, _Nashville—_big wig cities right? Tons of artists relocate to be seen and heard, fighting among the _other_ tons of artists trying to be seen and heard. And the result of that is the same sound being packaged and fed to audiences over and over. The cycle never ends."

Nick leaned forward across his desk, gripping the plastic toy basketball in his hands. The passion was oozing from his eyes and Mercedes was mesmerized by each word.

"So that's where I come in! Television has taught me a lot of things, but one of the most important is that there's always some small town talent looking to make it big. Instead of trying to find opportunities elsewhere, why I don't bring the opportunity to _them_?"

Nick's vision was ambitious, and I believed in music just as much as he did, but he had no plan. His background didn't convey maturity or continuity. In the entire hour that we'd spent, not one topic of discussion had focused on his ad.

"This sounds…_great_, Nick, but where does Walker Designs come in? You said you were looking for a graphic design in your ad?" Mercedes asked, saving me from sounding explicitly rude.

"Right! I see you have a portfolio—mind if I peek?"

Mercedes' eyes questioned the force I used in shoving the folder across his desk. He barely flipped through the company's background notes and only skimmed our previous work.

"These are awesome, dude! Where do I sign up?"

He wasn't serious—he couldn't have been. The gist of the meeting had consisted of listening to his annoying voice for an hour, and with little consideration, he wanted our team to work for _him_. As I'm sure he was accustomed to getting his way, I was about to change his string of good luck.

"I'm going to be blunt with you, Nick. You're unprofessional." Mercedes' sneer was disapproving, but there was no turning back now.

"While I admire your motivation, Walker Designs can't commit to someone that isn't reliable or trustworthy.

"What Sam is _trying_ to say is that we'd need to see a concrete plan—"

"I don't know if we'll be able to provide our services, Mr. Simms, we—"

"Can we talk about this?"

Mercedes turned to me, frowning. The tension in the room hit the ceiling, and all I wanted to do was leave. Her eyes pleaded to me, but I had to remember that her position was only temporary.

Once we were outside of his office, she pulled me back our starting place waiting for an explanation.

"Why are you pushing this? Eddie would have left this guy an hour ago," I spoke low, just in case he listened in.

"Why _aren't_ you pushing this—it's a great opportunity for you two. Besides, what does it matter if he didn't present a PowerPoint presentation with detailed outlines? You make the design and that's it!" Mercedes matched my stance, crossing her arms.

"It's more than that. We don't want our names on something that is going to bite us in the ass later on—"

"Come on, you'd be helping a kid out with his dreams. We had dreams like that before," her eyes twinkled as she spoke. Mercedes had dreams like that _now_, and suddenly I understood why she had been just as passionate as Nick. Still, I couldn't make a business decision on empty promises and a dazzling smile.

"I get it, Mercedes, but this isn't your company!"

My foot had found a permanent place in my mouth which is why I couldn't find the words to take back the harsh tone of what I'd said. She had only been trying to help me out, and I'd taken my childish anger against Nick on her.

"You're right, I'm sorry," she apologized, heading for the door. I had to discover a better way to express myself without setting our progress back. If I kept screwing things up, she was going to revoke my existence in her life.

"Mercedes, don't—" She slammed the door intentionally, storming out the exit.

"So, I guess that's a no?"

Nick's voice came from behind me. He wasn't worth the black eye I wanted to give him, so I took my portfolio from his hands in silence. If he never smiled at me again, it would be too soon.

I wanted to go after her, but this meeting had run into my lunch plans with Mike, and he'd been blowing up my phone. I'd have to settle for groveling via voicemail until I saw her again. It'd been exactly a week since Mike revealed his plan to propose, and he was eager to bring his ideas into fruition.

In the entrance of the restaurant, he continued the voicemail he was leaving even as I greeted him.

'Hi, this is your best friend again. I can now confirm that you're not dead. Ignore the other five messages I left you," he said before ending the call. Mike captured me in a hug so strong that I was sure he'd crush my ribs.

"_Sorry_, meeting ran late and I managed to screw things up with Mercedes again—would let me go?"

Typically, Mike was a happy spirit, but his spirit was performing backflips this afternoon. He planned breakfast with Tina's parents that morning, and I could only assume it went well.

"_Weak_! And how'd you do that" He had me a headlock before I could answer his question and we looked like a couple of first graders who didn't know how to act. Rumbling insults back and forth, Mike and I forget how old we actually were. The snooty onlookers clearly did not approve, but we didn't break apart until our host alerted us that our table was ready.

Mike's wild manners made me forget my tussle with Mercedes for the time being, although I couldn't help but over analyze what the consequences could be.

The petite girl led us to a large table, which made not one bit of sense to me, but Mike didn't question her.

"How much do we plan on eating? I know we can both throw down, but…"

"Hey, you _know_ much those two can eat," Mike directed his nod behind me.

Looking dapper as ever, I almost missed two of my oldest friends heading towards us. Finn and Puck hadn't changed much since I saw them a month ago. Although, a bet was a bet and Puck had yet to grow his Mohawk back.

Apparently my presence had also been a secret, for those two bums doubled over in excitement upon seeing me.

"Trouty! We thought Jones chased you out Lima for good?" Puck wasn't funny, and I let him know this after our brief hug.

"You know he's joking," Finn bit back his own laugh.

We exchanged various jabs before sitting down and catching up shortly. They weren't surprised as I explained my return. The table went solemn as we quickly discussed Mr. Jones' current state. Mercedes was their family too. He was doing fine though, so we kept our heads up high.

Finn wasn't too far coaching little league football in Cincinnati, while Puck had flown in from Texas. It hadn't taken long for us to get rowdy. Our waiter was not in the mood for grown men going over old football plays and recalling our days as Titans.

"Whatever Hudson, you were our best quarterback—"

"Sam, please, I had to fight for my position! I didn't even get it back until you dislocated your shoulder."

The entire group erupted into laughter until we were interrupted by a different voice.

"Mike! I thought we were talking about weddings, not football!"

We all turned to see a very disappointed Kurt Hummel standing with his hands on his waist. Kurt looked as if he was still eighteen, not aging one bit. He arrived, sporting an ensemble that none of us understood, but to each his own.

Another round of hugs commenced, and the party was in full swing. Puck was complaining about the lack of choices on the menu, when the conversation was interjected once again.

"We should be at some bar and grill—this menu is for ladies!"

"Then you're in the right place, Puckerman!"

Artie Abrams strolled up to our table, and I could feel his ego cloud hovering over him. We lost it as our old friend showed up to the restaurant still wearing his shades inside. Artie was the most humble of us all, but it was fun to tease him for his newfound fame. One movie and Artie had become a household name.

"Hollywood has graced our presence, men." Kurt raised his glass in Artie's honor. Finally discarding his sunglasses, he jokingly asked where his red carpet was.

"We're not in L.A. anymore, Dorothy. This yellow brick road is a _little_ rusty," Mike greeted him with a smile. Mike and Artie shared a townhouse out in California before he moved back to pursue Tina. When Mike broke the news that he wasn't returning, Artie reassured him that he'd be okay—then proceeded to move into his house in the hills.

Mike confirmed that Artie had been the last surprise and he wasted no time in announcing his latest news. We had gotten so quiet as he told the events of his morning that other customers stared in curiosity.

"Eventually after Mrs. Cohen-Chang stopped crying, her parents gave me the blessing!"

One would think we were at a sporting event—Kurt even cheered rambunctiously. The group received death stares, but we could not stop celebrating.

"Now, all she has to do is say yes!" Artie commented once our voices returned to a normal level. Mike's face fell instantly, but recovered well.

"Guys, this has to be perfect. I need you all to be with me 100% that day," he spoke softly.

This was his moment to put everything on the line. The wedding was normally tailored for the bride, but it was Mike's responsibility to shape this proposal into a memorable moment. He was putting himself under a ton of pressure. It was a glimpse of how the rest of their lives would be—treating her like the Queen she was.

"Well, we're not going to let you down. Right, douchebags?"

Puck raised his right hand, and the rest of us followed. Mike's smile widened as each of swore to romance the hell out of Tina. By tomorrow afternoon, my best friend would be engaged.

We barely finished our meals as Mike spread his blueprint across the table. He wasn't joking about his plan. Mike mapped out the entire city of Lima, and starred each location for his scavenger hunt. His dancers from L.A. planned to arrive in Ohio that night, and rehearsals would begin immediately. The five of us regarded Mike's threat of meeting him later that night for a run through with complete seriousness. It was game time, and we were well aware that he was depending on us.

After saying goodbye to the guys, I was disappointed to see zero notifications on my phone. Mercedes had yet to return any of my calls during lunch, so I was ready to try again. I was insistent receiving her forgiveness. Stacey had finally talked to me again and I didn't need someone else mad at me—especially Mercedes. Just as I second guessed my plan to cloud her inbox with messages, it was Eddie's call that interrupted my frenzy.

"Hey man, what's up?'

"Change of plans, Sam! I'll be making a visit to the good ol' Midwest after all."

"Really? I thought—"

"Apparently our newest _business partner_ disagrees with the outcome of this morning's meeting," he said.

"Wait, wha—"

"That girl is quite persuasive, kid. She convinced me that I should reconsider taking a trip up there as soon as possible, so here I am gassing up the truck."

As soon as I put two and two together, I laughed in disbelief. I should have known that as soon as Mercedes was out of my sight, she was making phone calls. Mercedes was forever determined, and here she was fighting for what she believed in.

Something told me that I hadn't seen the last of Nick Simms.

* * *

><p><strong>What are your thoughts on Nick Simms? Sam obviously doesn't like him. I would love to hear your thoughts!<strong>


	19. Taking Chances

_There's so much I want to say, but I'll try to keep it short! Patience is a freakin' virtue! So thanks to all of you that have not stopped believing in this story. My summer break has officially begun, so my entire lifestyle has changed since then. With more free time, I hope to dish out chapters quicker! _

_Every review contributes to this story, so even if think what you have to say is meaningless, just know that I appreciate any feedback, always._

_This chapter is dedicated to a dear friend, and long time reader, **Jill1228**. Love you!_

* * *

><p>Sam had every right to be upset with me. In fact, he should have been livid. It wasn't my company or any of my business. That should have stopped me there. Realizing that it wasn't my place to step in should have been an immediate red flag.<p>

When I volunteered to temporarily stand in for Sam's business partner, Eddie, falling in love with the idea of Bluebird Records was not the initial plan. In fact, meeting Nick, the rambunctious "businessman" from Australia was also unexpected. The meeting, despite the strange beginning, was going to be a success…so I had thought. From a business perspective, it was clear why Sam was not a bit impressed with Nick's presentation. His green eyes darkened, and by the way Sam's fingers gripped to his portfolio, Nick didn't stand a chance.

Well, he _could_ if my newest plan didn't fall through.

It wasn't a selfish act, in my defense. Listening to Nick—as frazzled as he may be—I saw his vision. Bluebird Records had potential. With the right push, Nick could develop one of the most unique platforms in music. Until Sam shot him down, his determination stood out immensely. Under his confident—borderline cocky—demeanor, was a love for music. Music, the universal language had been a huge part of him. If he lacked passion, I would have left with Sam and never looked back—but he didn't.

I was doing this for the greater good of the Lima community—the _world._ If I didn't act fast, that Australian wild child would be on the next plane back home!

Or at least, that's what I convinced myself as I made my Oscar winning exit.

Upon hearing Sam's footsteps, I dodged around the street corner. Because he was already upset with me, what I was about to do was another risk. Our relationship didn't need another detrimental hit from the wrecking ball of drama. We were traveling the high road back to a good point. I shouldn't have let my own personal hopes and dreams interfere with his career, but my fingers were magnets to my touch screen phone.

Thankfully after our reunion, Mrs. Evans reinstalled her number into my contacts and assured me that I could call for anything. Knowing that my proposal would sound a bit suspicious, I prepared to tell her everything—plan included. There was no beating around the bush with her, and this phone call would go much smoother if I told the truth.

"Hi, —_Mary_! I was wondering if you had time to chat?"

My cheeks burned instantly as she explained that she was at work. Luckily, she'd been taking a lunch with some of her co-workers, but I all but rushed her off the phone. She then assured me that it was okay, and in her words, made me "spill the beans."

I was grateful that she didn't think I was crazy. My grin stretched far listening to her drool over the "great idea." We even shared a few laughs when I told her Sam's reaction.

"For a boy who was always accustomed to rushing into things, the one time you want him to—"

"That's what I thought myself!"

Instantly I thought of how passionate Sam was. I distinctly remembered the glimmer of his bright green orbs whenever he went on about something he loved. His drive, along with his humor and quirk, was one of the many reasons Sam Evans was so special.

Before she had to get back to her job, Mrs. Evans led me down the right path. The number wasn't easy to possess. I had to call Sam's Dad, who led me to _his_ Dad, which finally led me to the golden ticket.

As I made my way to take the leap, I noticed several missed calls from Sam himself. Afraid that it might have been a negative sign, I laid out the pros and cons. Going about this could completely backfire and ruin my friendship would Sam. On the other hand, it would be a great success, and things between us would further improve. Cringing at the small chance of the latter, I went forward anyway.

Sam was right: it wasn't my company. But it _was_ Eddie Walker's, and if I could convince him, Bluebird Records would have new graphic designs and new sponsorship from its first business.

"Hello, Mr. Walker? My name is Mercedes Jones, a friend of your partner, Sam Evans! If you could spare just a few minutes of your time, I'd like to make a proposal."

If I was being truthful with myself, I had not a clue of what I was doing, but the opportunity was worth a shot.

To my surprise, the odds had been in my favor. By the end of our conversation, I was jaw-slacked, barely hearing his final words.

It had worked. My insanely random and dangerous idea—_it worked_. We'd been on the phone for almost an hour. The conversation swerved off track, and Eddie and I found ourselves talking about our love of music. His love for the underappreciated sounds of Nashville Jazz was refreshing to hear. When I mentioned that I studied Music at Sherwood, the phone call took an unexpected turn.

"Wait, wait, you're _the_ Mercedes Jones from Sherwood's _Brown Sugar_? Girl, stop playin'!"

His enthusiasm had thrown me off—his acknowledgement of my college life startled me even more. Brown Sugar was Sherwood's premier co-ed a cappella group on campus. I was lucky enough to score an audition during my freshman year, and even luckier to not get cut. Being in Brown Sugar was a relief from constant stress of being a Music major. It shaped my college experience—but how had Eddie could have known that?

"E. Dubb and the _Bass Boys—_from the Chordials? That was me and my crew—Tennessee State University?"

I almost laughed when it all hit me. _Eddie Walker._ The name should have jumped out at me sooner. Sherwood would host many a cappella showcases annually, inviting the best college groups in the nation. We would compete and raise funds just for fun, but The Chordials from Tennessee State University was the team to beat. TSU was an HBCU located in the heart of Nashville. Their all-male group held it down _always_, which gave Brown Sugar more competition than we wanted. They were genuine guys, so whenever they took home the trophy, everyone showed them respect.

Eddie's laugh was memorable—almost as loud as mine. He started cackling, breaking the silence, and all of the memories came rushing back. After our showcases, we would get together with the visiting teams and just _sing_.

With everything going on recently, my times at Sherwood were a distant memory. But talking with Eddie made me miss it more—it made this mission so much more important.

"I can't believe I'm talking to you right now! Talk about memories," I managed to croak out after being stuck in the past.

Talk about memories, we did. After getting over the initial shock that Sam and I knew each other and even dated, we relived our youth. He missed it too, so when I told him about the morning's events, he groaned with disappointment.

"_Oh hell_—well, I can't blame him for looking out. That's my boy, and I'm glad he was making the company the first priority."

I bit my lip after asking Eddie to pack up his things for a trip to Lima. Although I was just rambling, he seemed to be impressed with my perseverance. I went on about how this would be a fantastic opportunity for his company—he was looking to expand, after all.

"I've gotta say, no one has ever stuck their neck out for Walker Designs like _this_."

He hadn't said no yet, and I could feel him wanting to form a yes. The anticipation of his answer killed me, and I realized that I'd be crushed if this phone call went to a waste.

"Tell you what, get Mr. Outback ready for a presentation tomorrow, and we'll see what we can work with!"

His characteristic laughter rung through my ears as I squealed, jumping up and down on the sidewalk. Random strangers that aligned the street judged me hardcore, but I didn't have a care in the world.

"Oh and Mercedes, while I'm grateful for your call, I know that your passion for design isn't your motive."

I was caught red-handed with nothing to say. All I could do was smile like an idiot right in the middle of downtown Lima.

"I'm sorry, it's just—"

"No apologies or explanations needed, Ms. Jones. Music is forever, we _both_ know that. And so does Sam—he just needs a little reminder."

Eddie and I said our goodbyes quickly after—he had a trip to pack for! Bounding the corner back to the studio, my stomach plummeted ten stories.

_Shit_.

Floating on cloud nine had been wonderful for ten seconds until two enormous hurdles knocked me down. For one, I had less than a day to motivate Nick.

Secondly, Sam Evans was going to murder me.

I had to focus on the main goal in order to breathe correctly. I could do this—I _had_ to.

* * *

><p>"Let me see if I understand you correctly," the skeptical Australian glowered, folding his arms after taking a seat on his desk.<p>

I was relieved Nick had yet to leave his office. When I found him though, my presence interrupted his game of darts amidst a Celine Dion sing a-long.

"_She soothes me_," was his immediate rebuttal. Although the scene was quite comical, convincing Nick to try his luck again was first priority.

He listened to me with reluctant eyes and his spark from earlier had fizzled completely. Nick's newfound resistance tripped me up. We'd only met a few hours ago, but his ambition was clear then. Had Sam taken that away from him when he left?

"You're _not_ an employee of Walker Designs, just…a friend of Sam's?

Nick had been pacing the floor of his tiny office space, stopping when I didn't answer. The way he described us—_me_, as "just" a friend was unsettling, oddly. It was what I'd been telling the both of us what we needed, but as the word rolled off his tongue, I cringed inwardly. Though the word was simple, being a friend entailed more than Nick offered.

"And you want to help me strike up some deal with Sam, _if_ I can get him to like me?"

"Sam _and_ Eddie, you can't forget him…and not if. It's _when_ they see how invested you are to this project, they'll be begging to help shape the brand of Bluebird."

Nick began his slow trot around the small space again, only to park himself atop his desk. He stared at me intently, and although being under his exposure was a bit uncomfortable, backing down would show uncertainty.

"No."

"No?"

So straightforward, Nick Simms managed to deflate any positivity I had left with one word. His head hung low, but he quickly regained composure.

"How can I trust you? You didn't exactly tell me the truth—"

"I did eventually!"

Nick cocked his head to the side in askance. My outburst hadn't helped me much considering the circumstances.

"Okay, fine—my credibility with you is a bit damaged, I get it. But Nick, if I didn't care—if I didn't want this as much as you did, why did I come back? Why am I here?"

Instead of answering me, he retrieved his darts, and started up a new game. I'd been shut down, just like that. I waited for him to turn around—to say that he was joking. I waited for him to do anything, but he zoned out to another world.

Putting so much faith into something—_someone_—to only see it destruct right in front of you cut deep. It was my fault to have believed in a guy I barely knew. He'd outright told us how unreliable he was, and I let my personal agenda disguise his true self. Why _was_ I here? Whatever I'd seen in Nick had clearly been a mistake. I'd fooled myself, and that alone pissed me off.

"Hell no! I do not need this. Know what? Play your damn game of darts and listen to Celine—which I'm _still_ confused about, but whatever. Just…ugh—_damn you_!"

It was if I hadn't said a word. He continued to throw the flimsy objects of plastic towards the target, completely stone-faced. Even if he hadn't turned my way once, I felt the need to have the last word.

"This is the real world, Nick," I breathed out pinching the bridge of my nose. Beyond fed up, I led my gaze towards the ceiling to avoid his face.

"Sam's 'no' was the first of many you're going to get in this business—I know."

The amount of rejections I'd received from talent scouts was incredible. My classmates and I would bust our asses, practicing for showcases, only to be told we weren't ready.

"But if you're expecting everyone to kiss your ass like Mommy and Daddy do for you, you might want to look for a new job. Honestly, how are you going to encourage artists to push through if you can't handle one honest opinion? You're not going to get _any_ clients if you keep running away.

Ignore me if you want, but I know this project has potential. It's really sad to see a great idea go up in flames—even if its inventor is a coward."

I wasn't as pissed at him as I was at myself. Storming away from him didn't give me the boost that I'd hope for. It just opened my eyes to the mess I'd made. As I took out my phone and noticed my increasing number of notifications, the tears almost ran free.

Damage control was needed, and I needed to act fast. First there was Eddie—who was probably in the midst of packing a suitcase, or on his way to fill up his tank. Then there was Sam, who no doubt had steam coming out of his ears. I'd pushed for a friendship, and I ended up ruining the most important aspect: trust.

Everything about this plan was faulty from the beginning, and I only had myself to blame. Fixing this would—

"Why are you here?"

My palm graced the handle bar of the front door when the question stopped me. I didn't have to be looking at Nick to know I'd struck a nerve back there. Despite my harsh tone, I meant every word. I didn't owe him any explanation, so turning around would only be giving into his satisfaction.

But leaving would be going against everything I'd said about rejection, so there I was, stuck without a direction.

"I was here to help, but you obviously don't want that from me—"

"I do."

To say that my nerves were worked had been a severe understatement. He stood by the piano with his hands in his pockets when I faced him. Looking more approachable than our previous interaction, Nick's eyes begged for something. What it was, I didn't know.

Still peeved that my entire morning had been a waste, I waited for his explanation. Like before, he froze up, staring off into the distance. Whatever was troubling him, he'd have to figure out on his own.

"Don't go! Look, I'm a spoiled brat—"

I dropped my hand from the door again. A heartless laugh escaped me without warning, catching a distressed Nick off guard. Not even sorry, I nodded for him to continue.

"I'm a spoiled brat that rarely gets told no. One that doesn't know how to deal with constructive criticism, either. I have no idea what I'm doing, but for some reason, you believe in me," Nick moved closer, cautiously.

"Believed," I corrected him, but closed the door behind me. I refused to get my hopes up again, but maybe there was something that I'd missed.

"Why did you, then? Not that many people stick their neck out for me like this—definitely not strangers. Why does this mean so much to you?"

Sticking my neck out for people had been a common theme in my life lately. A theme that was more stressful than I'd anticipated. His eyes were earnest, full of curiosity. I didn't know much about Nick or his life, but his insecurities were clear as day.

"When you lose something, or give up—hell, if you let an opportunity slip through your fingers, you're always going to regret it. Your conscience is constantly nagging you of what ifs, and the possibilities that you missed out on. Walking away from something you want because you're scared will haunt you forever.

Some things, we only get one chance. You blow it, and that's it, but Nick? If there's a second chance, go for it. If you're stupid enough to let it go again, then that's another one lost. Another chunk of your life that you'll be wasting, wondering about what could have been."

He'd asked me about one thing, and soon, the past seven years—my whole life had come out in shambles. This was my second chance…for everything. The epiphany struck me all too quick.

My parents, I had to try with them. Dysfunctional we might be, but we were still family. Specifically with my mother, as complicated as things had been, who knew how long we had left?

And _Sam_. Sam Evans walked back into my life—well, I'd walked back into his, per say—and gave myself another chance. Since then, I'd only been running from what I wanted. I couldn't let him get away.

My career—my voice, I couldn't give up again. I'd used the engagement as an placeholder—an excuse to put my dreams on hold. I put _myself_ on hold because of fear.

My time was now, and that was why I was there.

"I know that Bluebird is my second chance. I love music, Nick. I believe in this, and what it can become. It's as simple as that. But it's not about what I think. It's about you. It's about you doing whatever it takes to get this off the ground. You have to believe in yourself before you go off, slinging ideas left and right that you can't support."

Nick's crooked smile reminded me of Sam in a way—something I'd sure the blond would never appreciate. A pair of arms wrapped around my torso was far from what I'd expected, but Nick Simms was hugging me.

"I'm asking you for your help, Mercedes," he said quietly after releasing me from his grip.

The hardest thing anyone had to do was ask for help, especially for someone who wasn't accustomed to asking for anything at all.

It was my turn to decide. One would think that after mustering up a plethora of Oprah-esque clichés, I'd be ready to jump on board. Yet, there were so many risks taunting me.

But if I wanted to rid of my own nagging voices, there was only one choice.

"If I do this…"

Nick had begun celebrating a bit early, running to my arms and thanking me. His bubble had then burst when I reminded him I hadn't said yes yet.

"_If_ I do this, there has to be rules. We need to establish a trust if I'm going to be helping you."

Nick nodded, picking up a notepad and pen that was nearby on a shelf. Of course, trust couldn't be built in a matter of seconds. Actions did a hell of a lot more than words, and being that both of our 'words' had been faulty as of late, we needed to work towards that common goal.

With trust, there was honesty. If I was being honest, I was a bit lost with the amount of help I could offer Nick.

"I guess we'll be lost together, yeah? Two heads are better than one."

Two heads were better, indeed. The next four hours were productive, including drafting up a plan of action for Walker Designs' presentation, and Bluebird in general. Surprisingly, the young entrepreneur was easy to work with. We managed to organize the front room, which resulted in drastic, but positive change. After assuring him that 'horror film-chic' was never in and never would be, we got to work.

A few hours later, Nick begged me to leave him be. Wary of what he would get done without me—or wouldn't, rather—made me nervous. There was much left to do, but he insisted that he be left to his own.

The plan was to meet him at 10:30 the following morning, ready to make a deal. He promised not to screw up, and warily, I took his word.

September's fall air greeted me. It was wonderful to breathe fresh air in, and I'd need it to deal with Sam. My phone had finally stopped ringing and receiving texts hours ago, but I knew there was a pissed off Sam Evans somewhere. Most likely, I was not his favorite person on the planet.

After the third ring, the latter was proven right.

"She lives! Mercedes Jones lives! Thank God, I can call off that SWAT team now and alert the media!"

I shouldn't have laughed—it was difficult not too. It was the image of a red faced Sam calling everyone we both knew, completely flustered, begging for my whereabouts. No, I shouldn't have laughed. I should have been groveling for forgiveness.

"And she laughs!"

"I'm sorry, Sam—I really am."

Although, that attempt failed, as more laughter came roaring through me. Years of knowing him, I knew he was struggling on the other line too, but his frustration presided.

"I know I shouldn't have called Eddie. That was shady, irresponsible, and selfish of me," I said, finally calming down from a fit of giggles.

"But, you did."

"I also probably shouldn't have scheduled a meeting with the three of us and Nick tomorrow morning—"

"But…you _did_, didn't you?"

Sam let out of a huff, and I felt like I was being lectured by my parents. He wasn't as angry as I'd hoped—only _disappointed_—which hurt worse.

"Will you at least give him a second chance?"

The following silence wasn't any indication that Sam was thinking about the question. In a way, it was an opportunity for me to think about what I'd just asked.

Nick Simms and Sam Evans clashed in a number of ways. Nick's outlook on life differed heavily from Sam's.

Sam understood and well executed the meaning of being a "man" by the age of 17. Whereas Nick still had growing up to do of his own. From family ties, to the value of money, these two could have been their own species. Because it was clear Sam had no sympathy for Nick, asking him to throw this kid a bone was a high demand.

"What about me?"

There was no manipulation of his feelings whatsoever. My question had been genuine—I wanted one last do over.

With a confirmation that he'd be there tomorrow, he ended our conversation to get back to Mike. There'd been questionable music in the background as I talked to him, but he simply dodged any questions I'd asked. Figuring that they were involved in some "bro" event, I let it go, not sure that I even wanted to know.

The next morning, I found myself hoarding butterflies in my stomach. After my conversation with Sam, I continued my apartment search until a nap called my name. I ended the night by visiting my parents, where I was happy to see my Dad. He was lively, even as he was confined by bed rest.

Without any alerts from Nick, the morning's agenda would be a mystery to me as well. He promised me that he'd "finish things up." He had to prove himself to Walker Designs, and he wanted to do this part solo. On the other side of the door could have been either a disaster, or a brilliant partnership progress.

Though, relying on Nick was only part of the reason I'd been on edge.

When I approached the home of Bluebird Records, there they were, standing outside chatting with one another. Eddie hadn't changed at all since I'd seen him last. He was talking with his hands, smiling about. Everything about Eddie Walker was smooth: his personality, russet skin tone, and his voice. I could see why the two had been great friends, and even better business partners.

Sam, who donned a grey suit, faced his friend. My heart rate had a mind of its own, increasing with every step I took towards the pair. Though we decided to put romantic feelings aside until figuring out the whole friendship deal, the anxiety hit me anyway. My eyes had trouble looking elsewhere. I decided that whether he was in a suit or rags, Sam would always carry this attractive presence about himself.

It was Eddie that saw me approaching first, thankfully. Our reunion had saved me from focusing on the bore of Sam's eyes. The heat from his gaze had an effect on me that I would never be prepared for.

"Mercedes Jones! Come here, girl!"

Eddie's height had always been a laughing matter of his crew back then. He was shorter than most guys, but made up for it with his heart and voice. Assuming that he'd been caught up to speed, Sam only looked on with amusement.

Nothing but compliments and questions flowed from Eddie's mouth. His dark brown eyes shimmered with excitement, even in the morning. A constant stream of questions prevented me from answering any of them. Caffeine was not the culprit; Eddie was on a natural high of life.

"Let her breathe, E."

Sam and I finally made eye contact, then, and I'd seen his face clearly for the first time that morning. The blonde stubble was subtle on the sides of his face and chin. While I expected him to be more annoyed with me, his eyes were light and excepting. His wistful smile had reminded me just how forgiving he could be—which piled on yet another layer of guilt.

"Good morning, Sam," I fought to say. He regarded me with a blinding smile, doubling the pounding in my chest. Being so close kept me at a distance. I had to focus on taming old feelings, but our hug had done me over. For a moment, it was only us. The few seconds brought back a familiarity that was inevitable. We tried, but could never escape it for long.

"Thanks for doing this—showing up…for trusting me, and all that."

With me still in his arms, Sam fixated his eyes on my face. The scrutiny of his pools of green was an experience of both tension, and thrill.

"I never stopped trusting you, Mercedes. It's the guy with the funny accent I'm worried about," he nodded his head towards the closed door.

Eddie's laughter tore us apart, commenting on how _Sam_ should let me breathe. They joked with one another, letting time pass, but I kept a close eye on my watch. Minutes wasted away, and there had been no clear sign of Nick. The building's front door was still locked from the outside at 10:28, and I hadn't missed Sam's constant phone check.

"Maybe he's watching reruns of The Crocodile Hunter—great show!"

Eddie and I had trouble stifling our infamous laughter, but Sam concentrated on the door. As 10:29 rolled around, the three of us searched for any sign of life—more like prayed. I'd gone the distance, hanging by a thin thread. This couldn't fall through at the last minute.

He promised, damn it.

Two seconds past 10:30, Nick Simms had yet to prove any of us wrong. Eddie's four hour drive had gone to waste, making a fool out of myself. Feeling like an idiot, there were no words.

Instead of gloating on his expectations, it was Sam that offered me the apologetic smile. After going behind his back selfishly, he squeezed my hand, not once looking down on me. That was when I knew we'd be okay. With a simple gesture, Sam Evans showed me the essence of a true friend.

"Extremely sorry about the wait, dear friends!"

Instantly clearing the air, out popped a chipper Nick Simms. Ten seconds after the minute, hope for this day had been restored. Delivering firm handshakes to both men, his spirit that I latched onto before was ready to make its presence.

"Forgive me?" Nick mouthed towards my way before cranking up his charm. I could only laugh as he went to work, introductions included.

"It's great to see you again, Mr. Evans! And you sir, must be Mr. Walker! I'm Nick Simms, owner of Bluebird Records. It's a pleasure," he bowed slightly before shaking Eddie's hand again.

The shorter guy furrowed his eyebrows, surely uncomfortable with how formal Nick had been.

"You can call me Eddie, Nick. Just Eddie, man! Come on now, you're already late—show us what you've got here!" Eddie clapped the astonished Australian on the back as friendly as ever. A two second interaction already told me these two would be an interesting pair to watch.

When I left him the other day, Nick hadn't made much progress. So stepping inside to see his changes left me speechless. A front desk made from mahogany sat to the left near the main entrance as we walked in. Lining the windows were four electric blue couch-like chairs. On the wall, asymmetrical shelves had been built, containing rows of old records. Above the shelves in blank paint, _Bluebird Records_ had been scripted carefully.

The missing piano left a giant opening in the middle of the floor, where Nick had laid out a black rug—a glass table atop.

Instruments that had been in their boxes yesterday were now on decorative display against the back wall. To add to the overall flare, a chandelier suspended from the ceiling. He'd exceeded any of our expectations—proving how much he wanted this. But appearance was only half of the equation.

From the beginning, Nick had me falling in love with Bluebird again. Without minimal use of technology, he engaged in discussions about his step by step business plan, and how he would execute his goals. Each of us had a printout of Bluebird's "master proposal", which had grown 20 pages in length since yesterday.

He was truthful in the fact that he lacked experience, but believed his future clients would help mold his company. When it came down to branding, he had both Eddie and Sam on their toes with prospective ideas. He'd even done research on their previous work, complimenting on certain design aspects that he wanted for Bluebird. I could feel their inspiration spread across the room.

The clock read 12:00, and Nick had held his own, flaw free. Eddie jumped up from his comfy blue seat, ready to sign on any dotted line. Although his enthusiasm was amusing to Sam, they stepped outside to discuss business matters before making a final decision. Nick paced around the front room, despite my efforts at calming him down.

"Would you stop, you're making me nervous! You were great—I mean, how did you do all this?"

"A _lot_ of sweet talking—people in this small town are intrigued by this accent! Who knew?" Nick laughed, taking a seat next to me.

"Thank you again, Mercedes. Without your verbal ass kick yesterday…I'd still be in the back room, singing along to Miss Dion." We shared a hug, but I reminded him that he'd done most of the work. I did, however, offer a weekly swift kick, if need be.

The door jingled again, and Eddie all but jogged to Nick, leaving Sam a few steps behind.

"So?"

Sam and I both shared a look after the new business partners hugged one another, already eager to start work with one another. Eddie and Sam proudly offered Walker Designs' services to Bluebird, solidifying a concrete partnership between the two.

I myself wanted to join in on the celebrations, but Sam had that reserved look of his, yet again. We excused ourselves, even though Eddie was far more interested in the chandelier than our departure.

The bench across the street invited us to sit down, where we sat in silence. I felt Sam shift numerous amounts of times before settling. He smirked, catching my eye, waiting for me start.

"Congratulations?"

"It's not a question—and you should be patting yourself on the back, _lady_," Sam nudged my shoulder.

Even when I wanted to own up to my shitty actions, Sam found a way to make me feel noble. Going on about how I "transformed" Nick, he countered every negative with a positive.

"While your words are comforting, I don't feel so great up on this pedestal, Sam."

Walking on eggshells around one another had to stop. Disagreements were bound to happen, and a difference of opinion didn't mean the end for us. The fear of losing Sam yet _again_ clouded what was important. There was always constant worry in the back of my mind of how long he'd stay, which only added another layer of complications.

I'd wanted so badly for this to be a simple process—only to find that the concept of friendship between us would be much more difficult.

"I'm not…perfect, by any means. I have no idea what I'm doing, and when my ambitions get the best of me, I have trouble thinking rationally. I'm so sorry for not considering your feelings throughout all of this. You have every right to be pissed at me."

"But I'm not—"

"You _should_ be! Sam, if we're going to be friends, we can't ignore what's real just to uphold this unrealistic equilibrium!"

"Okay, you messed up—that's real, but I'm not going to throw you under the bus just because you went after something you wanted. Mercedes, for as long as I've known you, you've always put others before yourself. Hell yea, I was mad at first, but then I thought to myself, '_Wow, she's putting her foot down, finally.' _You deserve to have something for yourself. What kind of _friend_ would I be if I said otherwise?"

His arm had wrapped around my shoulder unconsciously, and I hadn't noticed until he lightly drummed my upper arm. Effortlessly, Sam had shown how good of a guy he was. I made a mental note to give a call to Mary Evans soon to thank her once more for raising an amazing soon.

Leaning my head back against Sam's arm, I prayed for the strength.

"You're too much for me sometimes," I thought aloud, wondering what I'd done to have a second chance with the man sitting next to me.

"You're always enough for me, Mercy."

My eyes closed among hearing the confession that held so much weight behind it. Thick with emotion, his voice was rugged. Up until now, I held on to every piece of protective gear that I had to avoid these waters. If I didn't let us be, we'd never stay afloat. We would either sink, or swim, but I'd never find out if I stayed on the ledge. The advice that have been given to me recently was finally about to get some use.

"I'm supposed to be putting my fears behind me, but I haven't made it there yet. I don't _know_ how to be your friend without thinking long-term. It goes against everything everyone has been telling me. It's like everything has some rule that I have to follow, but I'm so damn tired of trying to live up to impeccable standards.

There's no simple equation for all of this, I know that much. But if you take a chance with me, I'm sure we're figure out the answer."

Sam removed his arm to wipe a hand down his face. His fingers split eventually, to reveal one eye looking at me.

"There _is_ no right way to go about this, is there?" I shook my head—his laugh muffled by his hand. Sam then took out his phone, checking out of our conversation for a moment.

"October 14th, set your calendar," he said, putting his phone back in his pocket. He then offered me a hand, smiling at the quizzical look I was giving him. Instead of answering me, he swung our arms as we walked back to the building. It was then that I remembered Eddie and Nick had still been talking inside across the street. Who knew what shenanigans they'd gotten in during the time we'd been missing.

Outside of the door, Sam stopped, but never let go of my hand.

"May I ask what October 14th signifies, sir?"

"In one month, we'll be going on our first date," he cocked his eyebrow.

"Sam—"

"No fears, remember? As much as I want to take you out to dinner right now, I want to give us a little more time. For one, it's only lunch time," Sam laughed, causing me to let out a much needed breath.

"Secondly, we should probably take a second stab at the friendship thing again—you know, sans taking over my company and all that!" He grabbed his arm in mock pain after I pinched him lightly.

His eyes shined, and for once, there were no reservations of the future. I didn't exclude the possibility of anymore downfalls, but I wouldn't focus on them either.

"And what's the third reason, if there is one."

Sam went to open the door before turning back to me, a mischievous grin plastered on his face.

"I know how long you take to get ready, so hopefully you'll be ready in one month."

* * *

><p><strong>I have to know if your opinions of Nick has changed since the last chapter! Also, first impressions on Eddie? And finally, a Samcedes 2.0 date is drawing near. Thoughts on that? I'm trying to keep a realistic pace going here, but keep in mind that I <em>do<em> believe in them. Keep your heads up! :)**


	20. Mercy On Me

**I promise you, I tried my best to update before May was over, but that writer's block is a pretty rude person. I hope you don't hate me too much! :) Also, just to put some faces to names, I picture Elijah Kelley playing the role as Eddie Walker and a dark-haired Ryan Kwanten as Nick Simms.**

**I'm always forever grateful for your patience with me!**

* * *

><p>"Well…I'd say that was a success!"<p>

My friend of 15 years took stride next to me, still riding a post meeting high. After keeping the business local for quite some time, Eddie had been ready to expand. I should have known he'd be ready to jump at a chance to get involved with a project like Bluebird, considering his history. If he wasn't talking, Eddie was singing. Our days cramped up in boarding school introduced me to his vocal chords—which ultimately led to frequent jam sessions on the weekend.

Eddie, who was raised to give everything 110%, was passionate about everything. That is, everything he _chose_ to be passionate about. When Eddie wasn't singing or talking, he was drawing. Doodling images in the margins of his papers proved to be more interesting to Eddie during school. Luckily for him, he was able to convince the academic staff that his "failure to focus and frequent distractive behavior" was simply a "need to expand his opportunities." Granted, Eddie didn't foresee a transfer request in his future, but ended up in an Art school for the remainder of high school.

If I hadn't been switching schools myself and moving to Lima, those remaining years without him would have been unwanted agony.

"Oh, don't act like you're not excited—this is big, Samuel," Eddie slapped me on the back, not taking much to drive a smile out of me.

I'd been on a high myself, unable to put a halt on my ongoing thoughts. As reluctant as she'd seemed, Mercedes had agreed to the date. And although the thirty days I'd suggested was going to pass by excruciatingly slow, we had a date. We were going _somewhere_.

Back inside with Nick and Eddie, they were still engaged in conversation, which couldn't have bothered me even if Mercedes had said no. Being friendly was in Eddie's blood, so just because Nick rubbed me wrong in every way possible, I couldn't be mad at either party. After all, Nick was going to be a new client, and Eddie was all about client relations.

I wasn't going to let my guard down though just so he could make his move on Mercedes.

Shortly after the meeting, we all split, happy with the results of the day so far. Mercedes had plans to have lunch with her parents, and Nick had calls to make, so Eddie and I were dismissed to do our own thing.

"I'm just glad the kid got his act together. Should have seen him yesterday," I said, now crossing the road. Eddie snorted from behind me. The diner across the street from Bluebird had a brunch special with my name on it. It was the perfect spot to catch up with Eddie, outside of our business relationship.

The original plan for the afternoon was to meet up with Mike and the gang to be begin preparation for the evening's plans. But before heading downtown this morning, we all received an emergency text from the supposed proposer himself , saying that there'd been a big X on the plans for now. _I'll call you later to explain_, had been the temporary excuse from Mike. Whatever was shaking him up would no doubt be revealed soon, as I'm sure Kurt was not pleased to hear the news and was probably somewhere giving him a stern lecture.

For now, there was an opportunity to chill with Eddie, something I hadn't done in far too long.

"Oh, he couldn't have been that bad, _Samuel_."

He looked up at me, just in time to catch the scowl forming on my face. Sam wasn't a nickname derived from anything formal, but he insisted on calling me Samuel.

We slid into a booth near the register, where a waitress cut in to take drink orders. The young brunette seemed surprised, yet pleased that we were ready to order. Upon sharing the menu's best with my hyper friend and proposing the idea to eat at Jimmy's, Eddie was on board from the get go.

"And it doesn't hurt that he's cute."

We were still on the topic of Nick, and unsurprisingly he'd taken interest in the Australian with a charming smile to match his own.

"Oh you would. It _was_ always the accents," I laughed, leaning back into the booth.

Eddie's eyebrows quirked in amusement before taking his drink from the waitress. Instantly, my heart had been trampled on and deflated just as the words had done his. So quickly, it'd slipped my mind, but not as fast as I'd remembered.

Time had passed, and Eddie had trained himself to cope. He was always better at smoothing over his emotions than I had ever been. As fresh as a paved street, his pain was scarcely noticeable. But just as tar was only a cover up—not a true repair—the loss of Eddie's boyfriend lived deep down in a series of potholes and cracks in the road.

Danny was my friend too, but what he and Eddie shared was more than any of us at Grandin Boarding School could comprehend. Before I met Mercedes, that is.

My foolish friend had claimed the Boston native with the thick accent who had transferred during the middle of freshman year, as soon as he'd walked into Mr. Sal's Geometry class. Eddie never had to come out, even though he chose to officially tell me the summer prior to eighth grade year. I'd been subject to his "secret" school crush on Jason Ewing—and every other lacrosse player since sixth grade, so the announcement was hardly a shocker.

The shocker, however, had been his decision to pursue Danny Parker, who would have never pegged me for the Eddie Walker "type." Tall and lanky, Danny was a ginger with curly hair, pale skin, and freckles. Although painfully shy, he was a superb student, so of course he'd been first on Eddie's tutor list after a bad grade on one of Sal's tests.

Outspoken and in your face _always_, my best friend was his worst nightmare.

He'd learn to warm up to Eddie's antics, though, and eventually his feelings for him. Sadly, Danny's family—the people who had sent him to live with his uncle in Tennessee after being caught kissing a boy—would never accept this. While Eddie couldn't wait to tell Mr. and Mrs. Walker about his newest love interest, Danny fought hard to keep his life a secret.

This fact resulted in an unfazed Eddie, who claimed he didn't care about gestures. He just wanted to call Danny his own, and that he did. From an "epic summer romance" is what they called it, to surviving life without the both of us for the remainder of high school, the two kept up their relationship. Even the distance of college—Eddie had to damn near force Danny to take that full ride from Boston College—couldn't put a dent in their relationship.

On the way to visit Danny's family one weekend, three years ago, it was the wreck right outside of Port Main that had done the damage. Despite Eddie's resistance, Danny had decided that it was time to look his family in the eye—his mother and father—and tell them that this was him. That if they couldn't accept him, that he would be okay with that because he'd found someone that had.

But eyes off the road for two seconds combined with an impatient driver who couldn't find his brakes in time had made more than a dent. Their relationship was over and his parents would never get know the real Danny Parker, just as Eddie and I had.

"None of that today, Samuel," came a warning tone from the man sitting across from me. While adding an unnecessary amount of creamer to his fresh brew, Eddie pressed his lips in a line and let the wave of sadness pass him by.

"It has been a good morning, so visiting the _dead boyfriend of your gay best friend Lifetime movie moment as we dine in a small town diner_ will have to take a rain check. Drink your juice," he finished with a smile, with a napkin in hand.

No doubt tears had welled up thinking about our late friend, but three years had also given me time to cope. That was enough time to learn that Eddie was going to be okay, even if Danny was gone too soon. It was enough time for that smile of his to return to a genuine nature.

"Besides, it's been a while, and I said nothing about dating him! So I think I'm allowed to be happy and check out good looking men. Especially good looking men with accents."

"Yea, well, unless your name is Mercedes Jones, you probably won't be catching Nick's eye anytime soon…what?" I'd barely taken a sip from my cup to see Eddie doubled over in laughter. With no effort to calm down, he continued on, gathering the attention of many customers.

"Oh Green Eyes, I should have known. You will never, ever change, will you?"

Not referring to the actual color of my eyes at all, but my tendency to get very jealous, he hummed into his coffee mug wearing a smug look. Sometimes knowing Eddie for so long would put me in such _fun_ predicaments.

He was begging for the full story, and even though I hadn't been away from him for more than two weeks, there were plenty of gaps that had to be filled. He _was_ aware of my past with Mercedes, but neither of us had made the connection that my _Mercy_ was the same girl with _the_ voice he'd met at choir competitions in college. He'd kept his composure as he spoke with her on the phone yesterday, masking the fact that he knew more than he let on.

What we had in high school, and the whole incident where I'd crashed her engagement party was what he'd learned, at the most. The major details had been left out until now as he gave me his undivided attention and no choice but to catch him up to speed.

I'd called him the day after Mercedes had shown up at my apartment, but his reaction to the complete story was a mixture of sadness, elation, and confusion. Sunday's events of driving back to Lima only to find that Mercedes' father was in the hospital resulted in a somber mood from him, only to be replaced with shock as I explained to him the "you should break up with my daughter" dinner fiasco that must have "slipped my mind." He hadn't been too happy that I skipped out on that for so many years.

Eddie smiled upon hearing that I'd formed somewhat of a bond with her father after he apologized and that the infamous letter had been burned. He knew about that too, and frowned upon it when I eventually told him one day back in Wentworth.

Clearly, he was not okay with Mrs. Jones' ways, but wouldn't disrespect someone he hadn't met before. He did raise an eyebrow while listening to how awkward it had been between me and Mercedes since returning to Ohio.

"Well, what did you expect? Eternal bliss after you've been gone for six, almost seven years," he muttered with a mouth full of eggs, sounded like Mike had before.

Ignoring that comment, I went on about meeting Nick for the first time, and how that didn't smooth over well. He of course knew about how things had turned around this morning, but he almost knocked over my second glass of orange juice after hearing about the date plans that had come to fruition.

"Finally!" Eddie exclaimed, startling an old couple that were on their way out of Jimmy's. With a quick apology, he returned his excited his to mine.

"What? Sorry if I'm happy, but the tension this morning was _killing_ me. Even an outsider could see there was more going on—maybe that's why Mr. Simms is such a flirt. He sees competition," said Eddie after wiping his mouth with a napkin.

He wasn't slick, and I could feel that smirk without seeing it. But he wasn't going to get a rile out of me. Nick was young, scatterbrained, and _he_ didn't have a date with Mercedes. He was the least of my worries though, as my friendship with her served much more importance.

We finished our meal discussing start up plans for Bluebird from the vision Nick had given us. Whether I enjoyed admitting the fact or not, I was more than ready to take on this new project.

"It's so good to see you, man," Eddie pulled me into a tight hug outside of the restaurant.

I grinned back as we released, taking the opportunity to bring him into a headlock. It was good to see him too.

Since Eddie hadn't made plans to drive back that evening, he declared a night with "his" Evans family was in store. He also missed James—almost more than I had in those couple hours away from him.

We were excited to find my entire family outside when we pulled up to their home. A few days short of the official first day of fall, it was a warm afternoon. Stacey and Stevie were attacking my parents' SUV with the water hose, turning the chore into a messy game. My mother sat on the porch with my father, looking on in amusement with James in her lap. My buddy was hyper, eager to play in the water with his older brother and sister.

The reaction to seeing Eddie was expected. Nothing more than a second had passed before each Evans had crowded around my car to greet him. The Walker family Fourth of July cookout had been the last time they'd seen the youngest Walker and his parents. James had the luxury of having his company on a regular basis, but the two week separation produced the same reaction from him. And even though he'd jumped into Eddie's arms instead of mine when departed the vehicle, I wouldn't hold that against him. There were bags of chew toys and a brand new collar, along with many other objects waiting for him in my trunk that couldn't be left on the shelves at PetSmart. We'd made a "necessary" trip before heading back to my parents' house.

"Can he breathe?"

My mother was the biggest offender, bombarding Eddie with questions about his mother. After diffusing the argument that had sprung between my brother and sister about who would tell Eddie about their school was going first, my dad went on to ask about Walker Designs. James hadn't left his arms yet. As per usual, Eddie was eating it all up.

"Someone's jealous," Stevie ran before I could catch him, making James join in.

We all eventually collapsed on the front porch, falling into an easy conversation about old times back home. While the kids continued to wash the car, Eddie let my mom and dad in on how his parents were doing. They were happy to hear stories from the Walker's 28th wedding anniversary party that my parents weren't able to make. Smiles donned their faces when we told them about the deal we'd made with Bluebird, which they both thought was a wonderful idea.

"Well it's good you're in town, Eddie. The wife and I decided on having one last get together before summer is considered over," my dad said, which had been news to me.

"Sam, why don't you invite Mercedes over? Oh, and Mike and Tina! Who else is in town?"

My mother was always ready for a party. After we all made it back inside, we'd discovered that she'd been busy baking. The kitchen table was covered in baked goods, and there were cookies baking in the oven. Dad and Eddie raced to the backyard, both ready to get started on the grill. With Stacey and Stevie sentenced to homework duty, and the arrival time for guests being two hours away, my mother and I were left alone.

Dressed in an apron that the three of us had decorated for her one Mother's Day almost eight years ago, my mother wore a smile as she whipped around the kitchen.

"Oof, what is this for?" She responded with a laugh to the pair of arms that I had wrapped around her waist.

"I can't hug my favorite lady?"

Her grin faded into somewhat of a sad smile, turning he head away from mine. She patted her hand over mine, before turning to pinch my cheeks. That nostalgic-but-happy look glazed over face.

"You are definitely your father's son, Sam Evans," she hit me playfully with her spatula in hand.

Taking a seat at the table, I took in the room that my parents had put so much effort into. Not being able to cook us a decent meal during our days living in a motel had been hard on the two. They both had a knack for cooking, so when they were able sign for the new house, the kitchen had the most thought put into it. New appliances sat atop the countertops, and there was even a dishwasher. Although refurbished with a new paint job, the carvings of our initials remained under the table top. The homey, modern look was an ode to our old place in Tennessee and new beginnings.

"I get the best from both of you, you know that. Can I help at all…even though I'm sure you have enough to feed all of Lima, Mom," I laughed, pretending that the aroma wasn't making a mock of my empty stomach.

"Oh no, I'm all good here," she said taking a seat next to me. I didn't bother hiding my excitement as she slid over a plate of her classic chocolate chip cookies.

The three she'd offered weren't nearly enough to satisfy my taste, but there was no ways she was going to let me spoil my appetite before dinner. When I looked up, I caught her staring at me in amusement, leaning against the palm of her hand.

"What, do I have chocolate on my face?" I asked, taking a napkin to my face self-consciously. That only produced a laugh and for her blonde curls to shake wildly.

"Honey, no, I'm just being a mom over here. I guess seeing Eddie and you together again brought back memories. When did you two grow up? I feel so old!" A flash of horror crossed my mother's face, only to disappear when I grabbed her hands.

"Mama, you know you don't look a day over 25! Daddy's the luckiest man in all of Lima—the world."

The palm she was using as a crutch cupped my face. Wagging a finger in a face, she repeated her statement from earlier.

"Like I said, your _father's_ son!" Mom paused to release a breath she'd been holding. "But really, how's Eddie Jr. doing? He was just a smilin' outside—still hasn't changed."

We both knew she was referring to Danny, who my mother had simply adored before he passed. She would talk to Mrs. Walker about how much of a shame it was that his family was nothing of supportive. Both ladies would try to make up for the fact that he was missing out on motherly love. If Danny wasn't at Eddie's for dinner, he was at my house trying to stuff an entire pan of brownies in his backpack that my mother had offered him.

The truth was, I could never know how Eddie was truly feeling. He was best at putting on his game face, having only seen him crack at the funeral. The spirit that he embodied made it difficult to pull back any layers that were crying for help. But as far as we were both concerned, Eddie Walker was doing just fine, and even if he wasn't, you'd have trouble getting the truth out of him.

"Well he looks fine, so I'm not too worried about him. We're going to have to make a visit back home soon!" My mom said after hearing my personal thoughts towards Eddie's once broken heart. The look on her face meant that she and Dad would be packing their bags soon. She found comfort in Lima, but Wentworth would always be home.

"And what about my first born? He hasn't stopped smiling either." She was finishing off her last cookie, and raised an eyebrow to match my own.

"Boy, I gave birth to you, and raised you for eighteen years. I know when something's up, and we're not leaving this kitchen until I get the whole story. You've been holdin' out on me, son."

She wasn't wrong, for I'd been so caught up in everything else to even sit down and have a chat with my own parents. My mom had been patient, but I knew she was itching to know what had been going on with me recently.

Not knowing whether it was the right time or not, I figured she'd be more upset the longer I waited and keeping her out of the loop. She almost fell out of her seat when she'd been given the news of the impending date I had with Mercedes. All of her teeth were showing and she had a gleam in her eyes that screamed Proud Mother.

"Goodness, it's about time. Do you know how long I've been waiting to call her my daughter-in-law?"

"Mom! I said I asked her on a date, not my hand in marriage," I said, even though the thought brought shivers down my spine. She regarded my red cheeks with a knowing smile.

"I know, but…I'm sorry, I've just always had such high hopes for you two."

She wasn't the only one.

As oblivious as ever, she'd only ever known that we'd broken up after graduation. Distance had been the reason she'd made up years ago, but that was far from the truth. Some things were better left unsaid, but I'd been meaning to ask my mother for the advice I was looking for. And although there was never a demand for every measly detail, the truth would fare better in the long run.

Doing her best to stay neutral during the whole of the admission, she took my hand to squeeze during the parts that weren't so pleasant. The way I'd broken up with Mercedes had broken her heart, but the reasons behind them had her festering an unhealthy amount of irritation. It was most likely challenging to hear such things being said about her son.

More disappointment had come with discovering why I'd made that trip to Lima a month prior without stopping by. She'd stated that she didn't raise her son to be rude, and hoped that I had apologized. After that, she listened without comment, even though she had to bite her lips at certain facts. Like how Mercedes had let it slip that there might have been suppressed feelings she'd been harboring during our time apart.

For her benefit and Mercedes', I left out the driving in the rain at night detail. Something told me she wouldn't be happy to hear that, at all.

"We've been stuck in this awkward 'What the heck are we?' stage, and even though she's agreed to go on this date with me, I'm not so sure we've made it out of that place. Or that we will," I ran my hands through my hair, revealing the truth to my mother and myself.

A part of me was confident in starting new, but I couldn't rid of that gross feeling that we somehow would never get it right.

Usually there was always a quick response, but Mom seemed to be a tad taken aback as she took her time in responded. There was a lot of information she'd just been given, and I was afraid she'd lost all respect of her son.

"Oh baby, of course I respect you, I love you. So what if you've made some mistakes?" I hadn't realized I'd said these thoughts aloud as my mother cocked her head to the side.

"Yea, I've made some mistakes—those exact mistakes are the reason this relationship went to crap. I hate thinking this, but sometimes I feel like she's doing all that she can to stay distant. It's like she's being cautious, preparing for me to leave again. Like she's already predicting the end before we even start—"

"And why shouldn't she guard her heart? You two have been through a lot and with her father at home sick? You can't be upset that she's only trying to protect herself, Sam. You should be too, instead of trying to dive in the deep end like you always do."

She had me there. Here I was thinking one month had been as much wading in the kiddie pool as I'd ever done.

"Mom, I just want her to trust me again. And I'm doing all I can, but…"

That sweet smile that greeted me indicated that she'd known what I was going to say. She even knew before I had thought it, like she always did.

"It's all you can do, honey, but don't crowd her. Give her enough space to think and realize that she loves you just as much as you _love_ her. In due time, you two will get it right."

She thought I'd missed that comment about grandbabies, but I didn't have a chance to retort. The timer on the oven dinged, and the new batch of cookies joined the rest of them on the table. I helped my mom gather every product of her day off and place them in concealable containers to bring outside. She stared on in awe of her work, ready to offer each of the guests plenty.

For as long as I'd been blessed to be her son, my mother was a superwoman in so many aspects. I was lucky that she was able to balance and deliver in every one of those ways.

"Mom?"

"You are very welcome son," she winked at me before taking a stack in her arms and making her way to meet my Dad and Eddie.

In the backyard, I was surprised to see Kurt and Tina had already arrived a bit early before the cookout officially begun. My parents were chatting excitedly with Kurt, while Tina had introduced herself to Eddie and James.

"Sam, I didn't know you baked! I'd figured you more of a grill man," Kurt said, eyeing the brownie pan I held in my arms.

"I am quite comfortable in my manhood to say that I enjoy a good brownie recipe, Kurt, but I can't take credit for these. You haven't lived until you've had one of my mom's."

This comment had the dessert table swarmed like flies. Eddie had to keep his grip tight on James' new leash so he wouldn't knock over the presentation that my mother had worked so hard on.

While more guests arrived—neighborhood and work friends—Kurt took this time to pull me aside, making sure we were far from Tina.

"Hey, have you talked to Mike at all today?" He hadn't answered his phone and I was beginning to worry. His text had been vague, not letting us know what exactly had gone down.

"Yes, and I basically had to kick his door down…you know I wasn't too happy about that," he said nibbling a cookie. Kurt looked more than a little bit stress. The way he savored every bite he took told me he'd had a rough time trying to get Mike out of whatever funk he was in.

Apparently Mike had a talk with Tina at breakfast that morning, where she revealed that she was happy they were taking things "slow" and not "rushing" to do anything drastic. He didn't even have to go further, already knowing that that had put a stop to Mike's proposal. Being the perfectionist he was, he didn't want anything such as Tina's satisfaction in simply dating ruining his plan.

"Well, what is he going to do?"

"I told him to go for it anyway! I mean, for all we know, Tina could just be saying that to be safe. Mike has only been in Lima for a month after years of not being together. Yes, we all know that they're meant to be…"

"But she probably wants to be sure before he ties down, and so does he…" I finished for him. I stared into my cup of fruit punch feeling a sense of déjà vu. Taking caution seemed to be a heavy theme in conversation today, and I was certain Mike was somewhere freaking out.

"Look, I've been patient with Mercy about your predicament as well, but maybe you can talk to Mike? You two relate better on this subject—and no, I'm not doing this for my gain. Even if I do love a good wedding proposal," Kurt said before he departed, flouncing towards the growing crowd of the party.

As I sent Mike a quick text to call me ASAP, the murmur of the guests grew, as it seemed someone new had arrived.

That someone new was Mercedes, who was beginning her rounds, hugging everyone in sight. Of course, Stacey had called dibs on her, asking her to join a game of soccer with her and her friends. I was almost certain she'd decline—she was wearing sandals that weren't meant to play sports in—but I was mistaken as she kicked them off, throwing a smile towards my way.

Other than a quick hug after the game, we kept our distance throughout the night. Not that I could have controlled that factor, but in a way I was giving my mother's advice a chance. As difficult as it was to keep astray, not worrying about where we were in our relationship proved for a more relaxed event.

The remainder of the evening went by with tons of activities and good food. There were requests from various people that knew of their talents, including myself, for Mercedes and Eddie to sing. Which only happened upon agreeing to play guitar. The three of us enchanted the audience, more neighbors even showing up to see what all the fuss was about.

Once the younger kids had started to go home, and the crowd began to thin, my parents were keen on entertaining those that were latecomers. After a request to refill the beverage cooler, I found myself rummaging through my parents' refrigerator.

When I closed the door, standing there was Mercedes, bright eyes set on me. She'd tied her hair in a side braid before playing around with the kids. On her was a ruffled orange tank top, and plain dark jean shorts. Even in the simplest of outfits, Mercedes was stunning. She bit her lip shyly, before looking down, and up once more.

"Did I do something wrong?"

She helped me pick up the sodas that had fallen from my grip out of surprise from her question.

"Guess you'll have to wait to put those out," she rose to her feet, meeting my eyes. There went that look of uncertainty that I was confused about.

"Yea…Mercedes—"

"It's just that you've been weird all night, and well, correct me if I'm wrong, but you asked me out this morning, didn't you? I thought we were good." Her face tore from mine during her last sentence. She fiddled with her thumbs nervously, drumming them along her jeans, until it hit me. Mercedes had confused me giving her space with a sour attitude, and that was the furthest from what I was trying to convey.

"We _are_ good, I just didn't want to crowd you all night. I have a habit of moving fast…"

"And you didn't want to freak me out," Mercedes slumped against the refrigerator door comically. She took a deep breath and buried her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers just moments later. I laughed at this, bringing her into a hug.

"I am a hot mess, you know that? I suggest a platonic friendship, and here you are trying to give me that, and I start buggin' out because you aren't all over me."

I closed my eyes, cherishing the way she felt before she left my arms—which happened too soon. She stepped back, making a gap between us.

"At least you came to me, that's a start! As friends, we should be able to say what's on our minds. I'm glad you asked me."

Mercedes nodded at this, looking up at me. Her doe eyes put a hindrance on my breathing abilities, looking as adorable as ever. Who knew how long we stood there, staring each other down. Her lips were right there, practically begging for a reunion with my own, but if we crossed that path, there was no turning around. We'd be stuck with that decision, and forced to deal with our emotions that were still both raw and tentative.

Even with everything on the line, damn everything if she would have inched forward anymore. The effect she had on me was mind boggling, and I had to force myself not to move that date up a few weeks.

"Well we should probably head back out there before your mother comes looking for us," she said with her eyes on my lips, slowly traveling back up my face. Despite her words, she stayed put. My face set ablaze, almost unable to contain my self-control.

As cautious as we were both trying to be, the small distance between our bodies was a huge risk that was worth taking for the time being.

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><p><strong><em>If I'm being honest, I'm nervous about the feedback, but lay it on me! Definitely looking forward to thoughts on the new information you received about Eddie. Next chapter, things will definitely pick up, loose ends on certain situations will be tied and the date will be included :) <em>**


	21. Take My Breath Away

_**Long story short: I would have had this up earlier, but there was a huge storm last weekend (I'm convinced it was a tornado), and knocked out the power. We finally got our internet back (just now actually) and I couldn't wait to upload! You don't care about this. Anyway, as always, thanks for sticking with me. I seriously don't deserve you all! I hope you enjoy the chapter.**_

_**Much love to my twinnie, who if it wasn't for her, this chapter wouldn't exist.**_

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><p>Time <em>never<em> cooperated the way we wanted it to. The month since Sam suggested we take a stab at the romantic side of things had dragged on painfully slow. But eventually, the 14th rolled around, which is why I'd walked into my own "Glam Squad" session about two hours prior. Leave it to my crazy friends to arrange an entire beauty salon just to prep me for the night.

Fortunately, throughout the past four weeks, everything seemed to fall into this comfortable mold.

While spending nights in the now hauntingly empty home Greg and I were supposed to share had been _oh so fun_, it was finally taken off the market. And instead of going through the trouble of finding an apartment, Tina insisted—more like forced—the idea of moving into her townhouse.

"I have the room. If you're not at Bluebird, you're here. It's perfect. You can either say yes, or yes," she'd said while throwing all of my things into a suitcase.

She was right, after all. If I wasn't at Tina's place squawking about how much I loved Bluebird, then I was at Bluebird, thinking about much I loved being there. Nick had immediately asked me to sign on as his "assistant/helper/right hand person…thing" after that initial meeting with Sam and Eddie. And although Nick himself didn't even know what that position entailed, we both knew that he was going to need someone to help call the shots.

We'd spent most of our time with business calls trying to recruit anyone willing to help that had experience in the industry. Phone call after phone call, it'd been proven just how difficult building an independent recording company in the middle of nowhere was going to be. Despite our frustrations, the whole idea of it continued to make me smile.

The whole idea of Sam and Nick working together had me smiling even wider. As Eddie had business to take care of in Tennessee, his trip here had been cut short. He promised he'd be back, but put all of his trust in Sam for the time being. Little did he know how challenging it would be to find common ground between the most stubborn men I'd ever met.

As the weeks went by, the daily routine of meeting Nick downtown, making calls, checking in on my almost fully recovered father, trying to work on somewhat of a relationship with my mother, more call making, and keeping Sam and Nick from killing each other over design disagreements, it was if the day would never arrive.

Today was the exception. Today's hours reeled forward faster than I'd liked, and in about thirty minutes, Sam would be at the door.

My nerves were all over the damn place, and that was apparent the moment I came home to find both Kurt and Tina setting up camp. They'd have none of that though, immediately springing into action to calm me down. Which, unsurprisingly, didn't take long. As my friends picked and prodded at every aspect of my outfit, hair, and make-up, they made it difficult to be anxious of the impending date night.

"Hold still, Mercedes! You'll make me get lip gloss everywhere but your lips!"

"Tell Kurt to be quiet, then! I'm a mess over here," I covered my mouth, unsuccessful at hiding my amusement. Tina sighed, dropping her hand from my face before breaking face yet again. The whole room erupted into a massive fit of laughter, temporarily giving up on the task at hand.

Most of Tina's living room was covered in clothing that "just wasn't suitable for the occasion," and shoes that would "simply fail" Kurt as a stylist if they were worn. Fashion had been the only thing he was serious about the entire night, jumping into comedy mode whenever he took note that my mind had wondered elsewhere. About twenty minutes ago, he started to do impressions of Sam doing impressions, which was way funnier than any of us imagined.

"Kurt, stop! She's going to pass out over there!" Tina tried stopping the antics, but all was lost.

It was a good three minutes before we all got it together, even though I was still wiping away the tears that were streaming from my eyes. Kurt picked up his magazine from where he sat in the chair across from mine.

"Look I'm sorry, but that intense look he has before he shifts into character gets me every time. And then that hopeful expression that comes after?"

I stuck my tongue out at Kurt, who only shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly. He and Tina shared glances before giggling once more. The afternoon had been a bout of déjà vu, as they would always come over during senior year to prep me for my dates with Sam back then.

It'd been a while since we'd been together like this, so the rare chances that we had were always a good time. Kurt, who had only been in town because of my wedding plans before, eventually went back to work in New York. The time he'd taken off for his job at Diane Von Furstenberg was up, but he'd flown back in this weekend to "find new inspiration for next Spring's collection." That bull of a lie would have never worked if Kurt wasn't his own boss, having worked his way up in the company in the time he'd been there.

Tina, even though I lived with her now, had her own life. She'd refused to let go of her love for the performing arts, and somehow combined her major of Social Work and minor in Theatre, and made it work. The youth musical theatre troupe she started up with Fine Arts teachers who lost their jobs after fund cuts in the city was her life. If giving piano lessons on the side didn't keep her busy enough, keeping her relationship afloat with Mike had her head spinning.

"Okay, stop it. I've always loved Sam's impressions! Leave him alone, Kurt," Tina vouched for me, continuing my make-up.

"Oh I'm just messing! Besides, his silliness has always been…charming," Kurt got up to join Tina. He squealed when he saw my face, building up my confidence with every second of his victory dance.

"I _love_ his silliness, it makes him Sam, thank you very much…and boy! You're hurtin' my ears. I know I look good, but damn!"

_Damn_ was right. A mirror met my face; my reflection beaming off of it. My hair had been perfected to beautiful loose ringlets around my face, courtesy of Tina's magic curling iron. Not that she'd brag or anything, but my make-up was flaw free.

Because it was well into autumn, the temperature had dropped significantly, so Kurt's motto for the night was "you can't go wrong with layers." He'd been quite flustered that the date's details were under wraps—Sam only giving him and myself instruction that it would be "casual." That didn't give my personal stylist much to work with, but he'd approved of a white, flowing top, capped with a burnt orange cardigan and a pair of nice jeans. I think the only say I had in the outfit was my brown leather boots, which I had to fight for. Overall the product was amazing, but now that they were done, those butterflies turned into huge, terrifying birds flapping their wings all over the place.

"Sit down, you look great! Don't be so nervous."

"Yes, and although I'm accustomed to people wanting to model my work, your pacing makes me dizzy. Besides, it's Sam, you've got this!"

Kurt and Tina's remarks did nothing for my nerves. According to my watch, Sam would be pulling up in 20 minutes, and I was starting to rethink my decision.

The last time I'd been on a legit date was with Greg. The last time I'd been on a date with Sam, I was 18 years old and we were in an established relationship. Tonight was beyond different than any of those times, and who even knew if I remembered _how_ to date.

Contrary to Kurt's belief, I barely had a grip on "this." Sam wasn't some random they'd set me up with, but Sam Freakin' Evans! The boy who had my heart before I was ready to give it. The _man _who I wasn't supposed to have a second chance with, but was now on his way to pick me up for a date. The surrealism of the situation was this weird thrill and I… needed to take a seat.

"Alright, no more date talk until he gets here! Just…uhm, give me something else to think about…_anything_!"

I fell back onto the couch after shoving clothes onto the floor. The two scrambled at my sudden outburst, looking at each other for help. Finally, Tina spoke up and put me out of my misery.

"Well, Mike has been acting strange lately," she sauntered into the messy area, stepping over huge piles along the way. Kurt followed, handing me a bottle of water.

"Strange? Like how?" Kurt perked up, taking sudden interest.

Tina explained to us how they'd been at this awkward standstill for a few weeks now. Her and Mike were still a couple as far as she was concerned, but he had been off for a while now. Even though I hadn't noticed much, Kurt seemed to be very intrigued with this information.

"Well, when did this all start?" I asked, thankful for the water.

"Let's see…Mike and I had taken a stroll through the city one afternoon, it was a perfect day! We even caught the ending of a wedding! Okay, more like we saw the bride and groom leave the church and ride off in their getaway car, but it was so beautiful. And then…I _might_ have made a comment about how I couldn't wait to pick out my own wedding dress—"

"You what?"

"Kurt, let her finish," I said, laughing.

"I know! Crazy of me, right? So Mike was just on edge the rest of the day, and I knew that I'd completely freaked him out. It was just a comment—of course I wasn't ready to walk down the aisle _that day_. Though, it never came up in conversation again, but I could tell his mind was always somewhere else. Like he was planning his escape or something!

"Then, one day we were in Target. My mother had me pick up a few things—_epic_ sales coupons—and he agreed to tag along. He seemed better that day, but I still wanted to assure him that I was secure in our relationship, and that where we were was fine. So I told him, 'Mike, I really like the pace of our relationship. I wouldn't change anything about it!' And ever since then, it's just been weird. I thought he'd be happy that I wasn't dropping hints about venues and bouquets."

Tina shrugged hopelessly, while Kurt on the other hand was close to losing all of his shit. A weird smile appeared on his face, and right then I knew I was missing something. He had been hanging out with the boys, who I'd only seen briefly when they were in town about a month ago. Now that he was biting down on his lip, I was certain Kurt was keeping a secret from me.

"But do you…_do_ you want to marry Mike?"

Tina was totally unaware and probably thought Kurt's obsession with weddings had taken over, but I was on to him.

"Of course I do, I've wanted to be Mrs. Mike Chang for years now. Bad timing…failed long distance and all that. But now is definitely the right time for me…I just don't know about him, you know? So until we're both ready, I'm happy with just being…happy. _Un_engaged and happy!"

Kurt took out his phone and started texting furiously. It would have been comical if I had known what was up. When Tina snuck away to retrieve her camera upstairs—she was adamant about snapping a photo of Sam and I that night—it was time to get answers.

"Spill!"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kurt replied quickly. He stashed his phone away and smiled. A smile that soon was met with a face that wasn't buying it.

"Kurt Hummel!"

"I've been given specific instructions not to tell you, even though it's been killing me inside not to say anything."

"By who?"

"Who what?"

"Who told you not to tell me," I lowered my voice in case Tina could hear.

Kurt, however, stayed silent, and darted his eyes everywhere but mine. He knew what he was doing! Killing time so that Tina could interrupt, thus ending our conversation.

"Fine! But I'm only telling you that Adventures in Tikeland will not be awkward for long. There _is_ light at the end of the weirdness tunnel, my dear friend," Kurt offered, but I still needed more. That gave me nothing!

"That's seriously all I get?"

To my dismay and Kurt's relief, Tina bounded the steps, fancy digital camera in hand.

"What were you two chatting about?"

There was no time to make up an answer, though. The booming knock at the front door silenced us all before Kurt and Tina started jumping up and down. He was a bit early, only five minutes or so, but all the time in the world couldn't have prepared me for this feeling. On the other side of the door stood Sam, probably applying another layer of ChapStick and resisting the urge to call his family about James for the second time. He'd then put his phone away, and fall into an easy smile.

My heart beat was louder than his second round of knocking. We were still standing in a circle when we realized no one had opened the door.

"I guess I should probably let him in sometime," I said, not so sure of the words that had come out of my mouth.

My two friends nodded encouragingly, and promised to act natural. I'd given up on that hope as I made it to the door, realizing that those two were the furthest from natural.

When I opened the door, my predictions had been correct. His lips were far from dry, confirming that he had a stick of lip balm somewhere close. His phone was also in the process of being tucked in his back pocket.

Said easy smile was detrimental to my already faltering knees, and those damn eyes of his weren't much help. No words were said as we took the other in. Sam wasn't too dressed up, as he said the date would be casual. Even dressed in a flannel button up and dark wash jeans, he was particularly swoon-worthy.

I couldn't help but think back on the recent times that involved him and I on the other side of a door. From showing up to his apartment in Tennessee, drenched from rain, to his not-so welcome engagement party visit, this was one of the first times we'd expected one another's presence. The thought of it made me laugh…tremendously. Out loud.

Because the date gods were off duty that night, this moment turned horrific once I couldn't stop laughing. Poor Sam, who hadn't cracked one joke or murmured an impression wasn't sure what to do.

"It's good to see you too?" His mouth was slightly ajar, and soon his perplexed face brought me back to earth.

"Come in, Sam," I pulled back the door, silently cussing those lazy date gods. When I glanced at my watch that read 4:58, I cried inside. There were many hours left of the night for me to screw up. This was only the beginning.

If I wasn't embarrassed enough, Tina's batteries died to her camera, but wouldn't let it go until she found a new pack. She just had to have a photo.

Kurt and Sam fell into an easy chat while Tina fetched more batteries. Meanwhile, I hoped for anything to stop this date before I could further ruin it. A meteor crash, the second coming of Jesus Christ—just anything would have sufficed.

Six snap shots later and after prying a very nosey Kurt off of Sam's hands, we were finally out of the door.

"You look amazing tonight, I mean, well that's nothing new. You always look fantastic it's just this night in particular—your hair and…things," he used his hands to gesture up and down towards me. The walk down Tina's walkway was taking longer than the usual five seconds.

Sam's face was a blushing red and he fought to find the words. Because I was still in pre-date shock, I could only smile and mutter a quick "thanks." This was ridiculous. As if I was some school girl going out with her biggest crush, I was a hot damn mess.

"I didn't bring flowers because you never really liked flowers. You would always say, 'they're gonna die eventually, so why waste money on them?'" Sam said, hilariously mocking my exact tone of voice. "So yea, I just didn't…you know, bring you any," he opened the passenger side to his truck.

"Sorry, I don't know why I'm telling you things you already know…"

After he closed the door, Sam lingered on the edge his car window for a few awkward seconds before nodding off and circling around the vehicle.

There was no sign of a meteor or Jesus, so unless I literally faked my own death, this night was a go.

Sam got in, but failed to put the key in the ignition right away. Instead, I felt his eyes on me as I looked straight ahead. Realizing that he wasn't going to move from his position anytime soon, I turned his way reluctantly.

That bottom lip of his was being gnawed on by his teeth. Sam dipped his head before meeting my face again, drawing in a deep breath. Those few tranquil moments of quiet made the moment much more real.

"Tell me you're just as nervous as I am? I'm kind of dying over here."

Sam gripped my hand, shaking me from a trance. It didn't take long for me to shake off the anxiety that had been building for a month now. I chuckled, stopping myself before I could fall into a fit of hysterics again.

"Are you kidding me? Do you know how insane I looked laughing back there? I'm not crazy, I promise. This is just all…"

"Crazy, awkward, weird…but really amazing all at the same time?"

I nodded and squeezed his hand, taking in the warmth of it.

"Stacey helped me pick out my outfit," Sam admitted out of nowhere. He stared me down before cracking a smile.

"She also told me not to screw it up this time. I hope I won't have to report back to her with bad news."

Sam took his hand from mine to start the engine, leaving it cold and limp. Luckily for both Stacey and me, he was doing just fine.

He'd done more than just fine, though, managing to take my breath away upon arriving at the location he'd kept a secret for all this time. The conversation took off in the car ride, distracting me from where we were going.

As if Sam had placed a blindfold over my eyes, I was oblivious to where his truck had taken us. Until we pulled up, that is, and it took all the strength in me not to jump out of the car. It was all I could do to stand there in disbelief.

"Come on, let's go," Sam grabbed hold of my hand. I'd been standing there with tears threatening to let go when his shy smile and kind eyes assured me that I wasn't hallucinating or dreaming.

When I was eleven, Carroll County's Fall Foliage Festival was bigger than Christmas and my birthday combined. It'd been a tradition in my family for years—one that was well worth the half hour drive it took to get there. Autumn had always been my favorite season, so this place was the equivalent to Disney Land. Every weekend in October, Greenbrier Fields would host the festival to celebrate the season's changes. And every year, my family and I would pack up the van and go. Though when I hit middle school, we'd stopped going, and I'd given up on seeing this place again. Somehow, Sam had found a way to change that.

Sam's statements about his uncertainty of the idea were muffled as nostalgia hit. Every scent and action before me took me to a place of excitement that I hadn't experienced in ages. Burning firewood, pumpkin pie, and cinnamon delighted the air. Kids chased each other around, while their parents failed at keeping up with them. Venders left and right sold friend food and the best apple cider in the Midwest. All of it was a reminder of what I'd been missing, and for one night, I'd be able to see it again. All thanks to Sam.

We'd barely moved due to my stopping every five seconds to "ooh" and "ah" over everything in sight. Sam laughed when I suddenly wrapped him in a tight hug, catching him off guard.

"Sam," is all I could murmur into his chest repeatedly. Overwhelmed was an understatement. We hadn't been there for five minutes, and it was clear I was in for the best night I could ever ask for.

"Should we explore?" Sam asked, not looking at me, but scanning the scene for a place to start.

This time it was me tugging on his hand as I took the lead. Getting a cup of fresh cider was the first stop of many. The set-up hadn't changed in the fourteen years that had passed, so I could pinpoint every location. This fact seemed to amuse Sam, as I recall him saying my goofy smile resembled his after a comic store visit. However, his comments didn't faze me. I was too busy soaking up the amazing atmosphere.

Getting our caricatures done was a must, as it'd been a favorite of mine as a kid. Sam didn't seem to appreciate the artist drawing his mouth abnormally large, but he was a good sport about it. For the next two hours, we'd stopped at almost every station. From pumpkin carving, to watching Sam let a group of 5th graders "win" in ring toss, I never wanted to leave. After we were both sure we'd be sporting battle scars from sack racing, our food break was much needed.

"I'm officially the biggest fan of this place," Sam said before taking another bite of pie.

Watching him trying to decide what food to eat first put a permanent smile on my face. I was happy to know he'd been enjoying himself, just as much as I had. The pressure of the actual date lifted from my shoulders. It was easy to lose myself and have a good time. Especially with Sam in stride, who had been the perfect gentleman.

"Thank you for this," I said after a moment of contemplation.

Sam and I were one of few people sitting at the picnic tables under the dining area tent. There was some bluegrass band performing on the main stage, clearing out most of the food lines. Amidst the busy crowds and loud music, we'd managed to find our own bubble to kick back. With the chance to finally stop and rake in the night's events, I was fighting feelings that had grown for Sam, all night long. Or feelings that maybe never left.

There was something so different about tonight, but being in his presence was natural. It was something I couldn't grasp, but at the time I couldn't care about labels.

"You're really having a good time? I was so worried you wouldn't appreciate it as much now. Your Dad said…"

"Ah, so he was the culprit? I wondered how in the world you knew about this place, but I was too busy freaking out not to care," we both laughed as I laced our fingers together. It was becoming a regular occurrence throughout the evening. So much that I felt off when we weren't holding hands.

"And are you kidding me? Sam, you're going to have to drag me out of here. I honestly can't believe you did this for me."

The corners of his lips twitched into a smile; Sam most likely proud that his plan hadn't backfired. Then for the first time since leaving Tina's, an awkward moment surfaced. His mouth was right there, taunting me with first date etiquette and whether it was the right time to go for it or not. We'd never discussed what things would mean after the date was over, and now that the end was drawing near, my mind was everywhere.

"So why did y'all stop coming here? This is too awesome to stay away from!"

I was glad that Sam had remembered we were out together instead of joining me in la la land. I'd looked up to see that he had cleared the table, and was now sitting with me on my side. In contrast to how cautious he'd been with personal space earlier, Sam was definitely warmed up by now. With his arm sprawled over my shoulder holding me close, I barely heard him ask the question.

"Unless you don't want to talk about it, if it's too personal?"

To this, I had to laugh. Although this was the first time in a very long while that Sam and I had been so close, there was a time where he knew everything about me. But despite learning to open up to him when we were together, there were things that he just didn't know.

"Of course not, Sam," I paused. I was given his full attention as he waited for an explanation.

"You're right, this place _is_ too awesome to stay away from. Which is why I almost threw a fit when we didn't come back my sixth grade year. There wasn't anything significant about that year, except the weird relationship that was forming between my mother and I."

Sam knew the gist of the relationship I had with my mom, but never pried for every detail. I tried my best not to focus on his eyes melting holes through my skin as I thought back on those awkward years. About the time our trips to Fall Foliage had taken a halt is the same time I stopped being good enough for her. And although we said we'd work on things, the hurt of feeling like I'd lost a best friend would never fade. Even with my father taking her place for a lot of things, I never felt fully secure. Those years would always feel empty.

In a way, the time I'd spent away from this place signified the gap in my family that I was hoping to patch together very soon.

"I couldn't tell you the exact reason why we stopped, Sam. It all just happened so quickly, and soon enough, Greenbrier and Carroll County was just a distant memory. But because of you, that's different now. You've given this place a new meaning, and I really can't thank you enough."

"Well, you don't have to thank me, but you _can_ show me what else I've been missing out on for 25 years," Sam winked at me while pulling us to our feet.

The sun was setting, and it was the perfect time to take a hayride around the property. The wagon was empty was the exception of us two, giving us the privacy to snuggle without disapproving passengers. Nightfall had fully taken over mid-route. We rode around Greenbrier under the stars, enjoying the crisp night air. I made sure to snap a few photos of Sam, who had dozed off a couple of times.

By the time we'd returned to the grounds, the festival was still in full swing, but with only half the crowd. My watch had given me a few minutes past 8:00, and even though we'd spent about three hours goofing around and appreciating the other's company, I wasn't opposed to staying out longer.

Sam brightened at the mention of dessert, even if it was a bit chilly outside. We gladly took two scoops of Pumpkin Spice flavored ice-cream to go. On our way out, Sam pouted his lip when he realized that he wouldn't have time to get the full Fall Foliage experience.

"We would have to stay in a hotel in town, and take the whole weekend for you to discover it all. And I can assure you Kurt and Tina would kill you for not getting me home. I'm sure they're in the living right now, constantly checking their phones for updates."

Sam laughed at this and hugged me closer. In the bed of his truck, we drooled over how good it was, while chastising ourselves for not picking up napkins.

I was in the middle of not making an attempt to calm my laughter when a glop of ice-cream fell on Sam's shirt when his phone buzzed the first time.

"Now you know Stacey is going to frown when she sees that stain!"

He went to retrieve a towel in the front seat, when it buzzed again. By the time we were all cleaned up, his phone was going lighting up nonstop, even after he turned off his vibrate.

"I don't mind if you pick it up, Sam. You never know, it could be important," I said hesitantly. The last time my phone blew up that much was when my father had been hospitalized. I shook my head of those thoughts when Sam kissed me on the cheek, an inch closer to my lips than I was prepared for. Though the location of it platonic, the feeling behind it was furthest from it.

Sam promised he wouldn't be long and said other things I couldn't hear. I was still reveling in the burn he'd left with his lips to care about much else.

It'd been Mike calling him all along, but I couldn't pick up what their conversation about, not that I wanted to intrude. He hopped out of the truck, pacing the area around us. Sam continued to murmur along on the phone, his face now contorting between surprise and anxiety. Once he ended the conversation, he took a moment to himself, as if deciding if he wanted to tell me what was up.

"I hope you don't mind, but our night might be longer than expected."

Still in haze from not only the moments before, but the entire night, I shook my head eagerly. Once he'd helped me out of the bed and opened the door for me to get in the truck, I threw him the same smile that had been on my face all night.

Before I could say anything or stop what was happening, Sam's lips found home with mine. We'd had heart stopping kisses before that would leave me in world that only two of us shared.

But this one, although nothing more than a soft peck, he maintained to leave me breathless.

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><p><em>Extremely anxious and looking forward to hear your thoughts! Thanks again for reading :)<em>


	22. Update?

Hello all Bluebird readers!

No, it's not a ghost. I'm actually alive! For some reason, I've found myself here on FF tonight. It's been so long that I didn't even remember my password...and had to recover it. I was greeted by messages from old friends and reviews and it made me remember how much this story and the support here meant to me over the years. I don't expect any of you to read this little life update/word vomit/essay of mine or even care, as it's not a story update. (**However, I would like to finish Bluebird someday.**)

If you're still here in November of 2013 still subscribed to Bluebird (there's 100 of you still here, wow!), you're either MIA like I was, or just awesome. I never meant to leave this story or my account high and dry, but one day I found myself slipping away from everything. From this fictional TV couple that I had grown to love. From a television show that had introduced me to amazing people. From my love of writing and from myself. I started writing the first couple of pages of Bluebird at 18 years old, and at 21 now, that seems like a lifetime ago. For my older and much wiser readers, forgive my ignorance. I know that I have much more in life to go, but the past few years have definitely been a learning and growing experience for me. Part of that was this story and all of you. Who knows what made me type in this website in my browser, but I'm here now, thinking of all of you. Of what was once a great community.

After Cory Monteith's passing, I didn't think I could see anything Glee related, and definitely not write anymore. And while most of us probably don't watch the show anymore, I'll always feel a great connection to anyone of you that ever read my stories or shared a passion for these characters we grew to love.

If I'm being honest, I do not know Bluebird's future. I doubt that any of you would want an update more than a year later (and If I'm wrong, correct me!) but I know I don't want to close this chapter just yet. Even if it's a few ending chapters, I want to complete this. For some reason you all stuck around during the rough, growing stages of my writing. (_This is not me fishing for compliments, this is me actually being confused that anyone would be interested in what goes on up in my brain.) _So thank you, for everything.

This is my last year in college, and I don't even have time to breathe some days, but know that I'm grateful for every kind word that's been given to me these past couple of years because of this story and any of the others! This fall semester has been a tough one, but I believe that things can only get better. I honestly believe that journey starts here. I want to move forward with writing in general, whether it's fanfic or not. I just want to create! So whether you stick around for this story or not, I guess it was important to let you all know-and mainly myself-that I haven't given up.

I'm not sure what fics are still floating around in the Samcedes world, but I think I'm going to end the night with some Little Wonders by tensionandthrill, So June by Bana, and maybe even Newton's Law. I'm feeling a trip down memory lane is necessary! Are there any old fics you all miss/think I should check out? Let me know!

Oh, and I have a break coming up from school! I'm feeling closer to this story and my writing than I have in a long time, so who knows what's in store. If you want to stick around, please do, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up either. I guess the main point in all of this is that I haven't forgotten, I haven't flown the nest. I'm still here trying to figure everything out.

I hope you all are well and would love to hear from friends! :)

xoxo,

-keeponsmilingg


	23. Sweater Weather

**Disclaimer: I still don't own Glee and let's all be blessed this season will be the last. **

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><p>Giddy and joyful—the car ride to our undisclosed location had been just that. It'd been as if we'd both gone ballistic at a candy store and were high off sugar and life. I'd been hanging out with Mercedes on numerous occasions ever since I made our date about a month prior, but tonight there'd been a shift. I'd been a bold one, not thinking of rejection, but I wanted to move forward and so we set our date: October 14th. For me, the day came by slower than molasses. Honest to God, it was if I was being punished, but tried to remember that good things came to those that waited…patiently.<p>

The evening finally approached and went by far quickly than I would have liked. But man, was it worth it.

Being on a date with Mercedes Jones—well, you couldn't tell me anything. We strolled through the lanes of Carroll County Fall's Festival, enjoying all their bits and bobs, looking like the finest couple in all of the county. Only, we weren't a couple yet as we were still testing the waters. But of course, I could only be more hopeful from this point on. The fact that I still had my lips after that kiss had to mean something.

The execution of it all was perfect if there was ever such a thing. I didn't have to think about going in for that kiss, though it couldn't have hurt much. For all I know, it could have left the remainder of the night awkward and tense.

It did anything but.

For once in the rocky road that my relationship with Mercedes had been, I felt we were headed in a good direction. And not because of a kiss, but because there wasn't anymore _over_-analyzing. No more stressing about what we were, and what we _shouldn't_ do, and how _this_ happened, or what _could_ go wrong. I felt confident in a place with someone with whom I thought was permanently gone from my life. I was no longer caught up in the "ultimate relationship goal" or any future schemes of trying to seal the deal. What mattered was the present and how fortunate I'd been to reopen a door and given a second chance to reconnect with not just my first love, but best friend.

Riding down the highway with the cool autumn breeze just creeping through cracks of my truck windows added another layer of bliss. The October night wasn't as cold as it should have been for Ohio, but I wouldn't fight it. We had about 20 more minutes left of our trip, but I wouldn't let Mercedes know that—despite countless attempts.

We'd heard the same Katy Perry joint playing on the radio for the fifth time, and we couldn't stop laughing. We'd groan at the ditzy pop intro and then fall into a fit knowing it'd surely happen again. The only CD I had in my truck at the time was a mixed CD of a bunch of the tracks we'd covered back in Glee Club, but Mercedes insisted on radio. I was starting to see she was regretting her decision.

"Wow, I _cannot_ wait until Bluebird Records is actually up and running so we can hear something new…at least on the local stations." Mercedes wiped her eyes that misted from laughter. She'd settled on some variety Jazz station that was playing a slow, smooth medley.

I couldn't help but smile and feel immensely proud of what her and Nick had accomplished over the past two months. Starting and running an entertainment business in Lima, Ohio was unheard of. With the Internet, artists set out to make their own music and create opportunities for themselves now. To take a chance on a small town record label, in the middle of the Midwest out of all places, would be crazy. But those two were just that, crazy. Crazy, focused, determined, and fresh.

"_I'm_ gonna be the first one, calling the radio stations requesting your songs like, 'DJ, I'd like to request that new Mercedes Jones track! It's hotter than anything out there!''

My ridiculous high-pitched voice had us fighting roars of laughter again. Mercedes always had me second-guessing a career in comedy. My jokes and accents were not Comedy Central material, but you couldn't tell me I wasn't the next Dave Chappelle when around her.

"You're very kind, Sam, but it's going be a while before that happens. I'm just enjoying the process and accepting what is. And what _is_, is that starting a record company is no joke! Seriously! But, I'm having fun!"

Eyes bright with optimism, I knew exactly what she was talking about. I didn't know what I was doing when I started working for Eddie and Walker Designs, but our friendship grew and my skills broadened. I was just happy to be a part of something I felt was special. It's a time that would always hold special in my heart, and I was lucky to be witnessing the same for her.

To my right, Mercedes settled back in her seat with a small smile that fell on her face. We'd talked about a lot of things tonight, some random and some with meaning. However, there was one thing that'd been on my mind. And honestly, being that we were on a date, it could have been weird to bring it up.

Shifting in my seat, I pondered on how I could go about asking, but in the end, didn't go as well as planned.

"So…Greg? Uh…how's he? I mean, you don't talk about him a lot. Not that you should. And not that you can't…," I stumbled on my words. I could feel her eyes rise to my face, but I told myself I had to concentrate on the road to avoid eye contact.

"This is weird, right? That wasn't right for me to ask. Which is fine. You can tell me to shut up now," I shook my head, flustered. Peeping over, and I could have been mistaken, but was she…smiling? Mercedes Jones dipped her head for a second, trying not to laugh at me it seemed. And then I heard it, the murmur of her stifled chuckle.

"Sam, it's okay. I mean I was engaged four months ago, " she said, pausing. Saying it out loud probably shocked her as much as it did me. Had it really only been four months?

"Of course I'm going to think about it. And I think we're at a point where any topic is game, so you _don't_ have to apologize for asking." It was only after a few moments of silence she decided to speak again.

"I'm glad you asked, Sam, I really am. And it still hurts sometimes, knowing that I hurt him, and I'm sure it's still going to hurt for a while. One day, I was someone's fiancée and the next I was at your doorstep like a crazy woman. I'm not regretful of what we have going on here, though. Whether we work out, or just remain friends, I'm still grateful. I'm grateful for Greg too, and I think he and I will be friends again.

I think for a while I just wanted the entire world to stop so that I could get my life together and then pick back up again. But, that's not how it works. I could be on some rare high, and stumble again tomorrow, but I can only keep going from here."

Wise beyond her years was an understatement. Mercedes knew she had made mistakes and would even continue to make them, but that didn't stop her from learning or growing. Hell, we'd both immensely fucked up beforehand, but it seemed she was even more self-aware and reflective than she's always been, something I could learn from. And that's how I knew this was more than rekindling any romance, but that just being in the company of this woman was going to make me a better man.

"Not that my opinion matters, Merce—"

"But it does…" She reaffirmed.

"I appreciate that, but I was just going to say that whatever you're feeling, I want you to be honest about it, you know? I care so much more about _you_ than the hope of being called yours again," I treaded with just a bit of boldness in my step.

"I want you to be happy regardless of who with, I just know I can't lose you again. This night has been fantastic, and I just want to thank you for being on my arm tonight, Mercedes."

"Well you sure know how to make me blush," she joked. Maybe it'd been too serious, but I would keep my word of saying nothing but the truth from here forward.

"And don't thank me just yet, Sam! If you don't tell me where we're going…" She said, now facing me with arms crossed.

"Not a chance! Sit back while I enjoy you squirm, Jones."

She glared at me playfully for not too long before giving up and getting comfortable again. I'd been surprising her all night, but this one I really couldn't give up. The rest of our journey was filled with a comfortable lull in conversation until we reached an all too familiar route once we took our exit.

At 9:03 p.m. on a Friday night, the William McKinley High School parking lot was packed because of a home football game going on over at the stadium. Students and fans were heading back to their vehicles celebrating an unexpected victory. I hadn't kept up with McKinley sports, but with two siblings attending the school, they'd filled me in on the misfortune of this year's team.

"Sam…you know what, I'm not even going to try this time," Mercedes hopped out the passenger seat, closing her door. We met outside of my truck looking over at the stadium.

"Try what?"

"Well whatever we're doing, you got me stumped, because if you told me I'd be standing in the parking lot of McKinley tonight…" Mercedes trailed off. I could sense her examining the grounds, taking in all the similarities and differences. We stood in an area close to where Glee club members would meet in the morning and slack around before first bell. That cool breeze from earlier had gone still upon our arrival and even with the chatty fans going home, the night fell quiet. There were a crazy amount of memories here in this parking lot, and even more waiting inside the building.

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Taking Mercedes' arm, I guided her around to the side of the building where an entrance door was unlocked and waiting for us.

"Is this even allowed? The school is usually locked after hours!"

It was not allowed, at all. After a negotiation with a late night security guard, apparently Kurt had been able to get the school unlocked for us tonight. He'd called Mike to confirm, who then proceeded to call me.

Tonight was going to be the night he proposed to Tina.

He apologized for calling during our date—he hadn't expected tonight to be the night. An inside tip from Kurt encouraged him to act fast. Unbeknownst to Kurt, Mike wouldn't want to waste any time. And now we were here, and Mercedes was going to kill me for keeping this from her, but the shock value would be well worth the verbal beating later.

Before being able to answer her, a very flustered Mike Chang appeared at the door. Red in the face, he looked relieved to see Mercedes and I.

"Sorry for the interrupted programming, guys, but I've got a proposal to make!"

* * *

><p>AN:

And end 2 year hiatus? Anyone out there? What? I don't even know. It's good to be back. This was a shortie, but I'm sure I'll be back in the groove soon. Thanks so much for reading! Let's get this story finished!


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